Life After
by boschette
Summary: Jen Lindley's daughter Amy has reached teenhood. This is about her life with adoptive dads Jack and Doug, and her part in a love triangle reminiscent of our beloved J-P-D. Please R & R, and thanks in advance! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Although I'd love to, I take no credit for the beloved DC characters my story centers around. This story is strictly for my own entertainment and that of anyone who chooses to read it. Please leave me feedback if you do read, and I'll keep it coming.  
  
Amy sat stiffly in the car next to her dad and stared straight ahead. The silence between them was heavy. She dug her fingernails into her legs and willed herself not to cry from sheer frustration at his behavior this afternoon.  
  
Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you trying to ruin my life?" she demanded.  
  
Jack McPhee glanced briefly at his adopted daughter, his expression not changing, then returned his gaze to the road. "What kind of question is that?"  
  
"A valid one. And a rhetorical one. You must be."  
  
"Amy, I'd rather not discuss this right now. It's been a long day, and we're going to sit down and have a talk tonight, but I just can't fight with you now."  
  
"It doesn't have to be a fight, Dad."  
  
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure it will turn into one, aren't you?"  
  
"Only because you're being unreasonable and tyrannical."  
  
"All right, you want to do this now, we'll do this now. Amy, you are 15 years old. Fifteen years old is way too young to go away on an overnight trip with members of the opposite sex. There will be no further discussion about this, because the case is closed," he said with an air of finality that infuriated Amy.  
  
"Do you trust me? Have I given you any reason not to trust me in the decade and a half that I've been in your care? I think you're pretty damn lucky that I'm as good as I am, in fact. Most kids with two fathers are probably dysfunctional social outcasts. You turn out a well-rounded, highly adjusted kid with good friends with clean records, and you punish me for it."  
  
"I'm not punishing you. And of course I trust you. It's other people I don't trust, and you know it."  
  
"Dad, you know my friends! You know me. What's the problem here?"  
  
"I told you the problem here. Now drop it, or I'm letting you out to walk home," Jack said with a slight twinkle in his eyes. As frustrating as Amy could be when she was arguing, it was when she really got fired up that he could almost believe his best friend Jen was alive again. Amy was so much like her mother it was uncanny.  
  
"Go right ahead; see if I care. I'll go live with Aunt Joey and Uncle Pacey," Amy said bitterly.  
  
She couldn't believe he was being like this. She had been discussing the upcoming ski trip with two of her friends after the English class that Jack taught when he overheard them. He had the nerve to butt into the conversation, ask who was going on "this trip of yours," and then embarrass the hell out of her by saying that she wasn't going on any trip with a bunch of teenage girls, much less boys.  
  
Now, angrier still at the slightly amused look on her father's face, Amy blurted out, "I'll just ask Doug. He'll let me go."  
  
Jack looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Amy considered. Yes, Doug was probably more apt to lock her in her room to ensure she didn't go than to grant her permission. Bad plan. She folded her arms and gazed out the window. 


	2. Chapter 2

Amy's mood didn't change that night. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and she lashed out at Doug when he teased her at dinner about the dark cloud hanging over her head.  
  
"Leave me alone!" she said to him, sick of his constant joking and making light of her very real problems. "Will you please do that for once?"  
  
Doug and Jack frowned at each other across the table. "Amy, you're behaving very childishly, you know. This is doing nothing to gain you more credibility as the mature 'adult' you claim to be," Jack told her.  
  
"I'm more mature than he is," she snapped, jerking a thumb at Doug, who was still looking surprised by her uncharacteristic testiness.  
  
"All right, all right. That's enough," Jack said. "Doug, you're on patrol tonight, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm on the docks. Should be a pretty quiet night, I imagine."  
  
"Well, I told Pacey I'd go out and give him a hand at the restaurant. The tourists are already coming in for the holidays, and they're getting really backed up. Aim, you'll be OK here by yourself?"  
  
"I'll probably set the place on fire and die of smoke inhalation without your constant authority and supervision. I don't know if you want to trust me to my own devices," Amy said flatly.  
  
Jack shrugged, smiling slightly at her sarcasm. "Matches are under the sink," he said, playing into her moodiness as he got up to clear the table. "I'm going to head on over now," he added to Doug. Placing a hand on top of Amy's head, he leaned down and said, "Sulk all you want while we're gone, but I hope by the time I get home that we'll have our sweet girl back again." He kissed her on the head and left.  
  
When Doug had left too, Amy called her friend Jessie to come over. The girls sat outside on the pier, dangling their feet over the side and lamenting the sad fact that there was nothing better to do on a Friday night and the even sadder fact that Amy's part in the ski trip was starting to look like a lost cause.  
  
"So you're really not going on the trip, huh?" Jessie asked. "That's a bummer. It would be more fun with you. And will you ever have a better chance to hook up with Ben?"  
  
"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it. I thought my dad was cool, I really did. You know, he spent his senior trip in my mom's cabin. What's the difference if there are going to be boys on our trip? If he trusted me, he wouldn't care."  
  
"Well, he is gay, isn't he? So of course nothing happened between him and your mom on that trip," Jessie pointed out, unknowingly wrong on that count. "I'm sure he's just being overprotective. He'll come around."  
  
"By next Friday? I don't think so. He's pretty set in his ways."  
  
Jessie looked out across the dark water, her brows furrowed in that way she had when she was thinking hard. "But there's a way around this, you know." She smiled devilishly. "Tell your dads you're staying at my place for the weekend."  
  
"Yeah, but they're not stupid, Jess. They know you're going on the trip. Doug's a cop, for cripes' sake; it's not that easy to put one over on them."  
  
"Can you stay with your uncle? He's pretty cool."  
  
"Pacey? Nah, he's overprotective too. He'd be just as against it as my dads are. Face it, Jessie, I can't win this one unless I want to incur the wrath of my whole extended family. You know, sometimes I think they're so hard on me because they were wild and crazy when they were my age."  
  
"You think? Well, I know your mom was, but the others too?"  
  
Amy looked at her friend. "What do you mean, my mom was?"  
  
Jessie looked somewhat flustered. "Well, you know, she was sort of a party girl. That's what my mom told me. She drank and did drugs and stuff; she was, um, well, sexually experienced, I guess."  
  
"That's not true. My dad never told me anything like that," Amy said, feeling a wave of defensiveness wash over her.  
  
"Hey, who knows? My mom could be wrong. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But does it matter, really? Your mom was one of the cool kids, right? Homecoming queen and everything."  
  
Amy was silent a moment longer. "Yeah," she said finally. "Yeah, she was cool." In the back of her mind, though, she was thinking about something her dad had told her once several years ago, when she asked why her mom had lived with Grams instead of her parents when she was in high school. He had paused for a moment, thinking, and then said, "Your mom made some mistakes when she was a kid, Amy. And her parents, your grandparents, were worried about her. They thought she'd do better here in Capeside, so they sent her to live with Grams. And lucky for me," he had continued. "I don't know what I'd do if I'd never met her. And I never would have ended up with her perfect little girl."  
  
Drinking and drugs? To be honest, Amy drank too, from time to time, mostly at parties, but something about hearing this about her mother hurt her deep inside. Since she was old enough to listen, her father had told her stories about her mom, wonderful stories, funny stories, sad stories, but nothing that hinted that she had been anything but perfect. And Amy had grown up picturing her mother as this wonderful, unscathed, untouchable angel. She knew it was easy to idealize someone you never knew, someone who died so young, but it was hard to separate that knowledge from her impression of how her mother had been.  
  
"Well look who's here," a voice said. "We've been trying to call you guys."  
  
The girls looked up to see their friends Ben and Andrew coming toward them down the pier. Amy's hand went to her hair, smoothing it self-consciously. Ben Chambers had moved to Capeside two years ago, and she had admired him from afar ever since. And just lately, it had started to seem as if he might-just might-return her feelings. As for Andrew, he was her oldest friend. He lived two doors down, and they had been playing together since they could walk. If she had known to make the comparison, she would have said he was the Dawson to her Joey. He was her constant, her rock, her best friend. But for her, that was where it ended.  
  
Now, the girls stood up to greet their friends.  
  
"Hey, we heard you're not going to make it on the ski trip," Andrew said. "That's too bad."  
  
"How did that get around so fast?" Amy asked sullenly. "Anyway, it's not a sure thing yet." She looked at Ben. "I'm still working on the dads."  
  
Ben nodded at her. "We'll find a way, kiddo. We can't go away without the entire fab four."  
  
She smiled. Beamed, actually. And she failed to notice that Andrew was looking at the two of them watchfully, an almost pained expression clouding his blue eyes.  
  
"What are you two up to tonight anyway?" Ben asked.  
  
"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing to do in this town. It's so boring!" Jessie said. "You guys?"  
  
"We heard about this party out at the golf course. Thought we might go check that out."  
  
Amy considered. It sounded better than any of their other options, and she was feeling a little rebellious tonight anyway. Maybe a party was just what she needed. "I'm in," she said. "Let's head on over." 


	3. Chapter 3

It looked like most of Capeside High School had turned out for the party at the golf course of the Yacht Club. Getting in wasn't all that hard, after you scaled the fence. Ben and Andrew went over first and then helped the girls down. Amy stumbled when her feet hit the ground on the other side, and Ben jumped forward to catch her.  
  
"Whoa there. You all right?" he asked, holding her in his arms a moment longer than was probably necessary.  
  
"Yes, fine. Thank you." She smiled and felt a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. Andrew glared at them.  
  
"Well, let's go see what this party has to offer."  
  
The four of them joined their classmates in the middle of the fairway. Some kids had gotten hold of golf carts and were riding around, yelling like lunatics. The music was loud, the crowd upbeat, and from the looks of it, the alcohol free-flowing. Amy immediately headed over to the coolers and got a beer, which she began to chug.  
  
"Hey. What's the matter?" Andrew asked from behind her.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You're going at that a little hard, aren't you? Besides, I've never known you to drink unless something has you upset. So spill it."  
  
Amy eyed him over the top of her beer can. "Don't get holier-than-thou on me, Andy. I don't have the stomach for that tonight."  
  
"You keep drinking like that, you're not going to have the stomach for anything in a few hours."  
  
"Ha ha. You're so funny."  
  
"Just be careful, all right? I don't want this to be a repeat of last Halloween."  
  
Last Halloween, Amy had gotten good and drunk at Jessie's party and ended up puking all over herself and passing out in the front hallway. Andrew had carried her upstairs to Jessie's room and covered for her with Jack and Doug. He had also stayed with her until her stomach stopped doing somersaults and she fell asleep.  
  
"Andy, I'm not in the mood, so why don't you just relax, enjoy yourself, and for once don't worry about me. I'm a big girl." Amy was sick of people who had her "best interest at heart" ruining all her fun.  
  
Amy turned her back on him and went to join Ben, Jessie, and two of their other school friends.  
  
A while later, Amy was drunk. She was only dimly aware of this fact, and since her stomach so far still seemed solid, she wasn't too worried about it. Andrew had disappeared into the crowd and hadn't spoken to her since they first arrived, but Ben hadn't left her side. When she reached for a fifth beer, he reached for her hand and pulled her back to look at him, distracting her.  
  
"How're you feeling, kid?" he asked, searching her face.  
  
"Fine. I'm having a good time."  
  
"I think maybe you've had enough. You want to come over here and talk to me?"  
  
Amy's heart skipped a beat, and she forgot about the beer. "Sure!"  
  
The two of them walked away from the party until the noise was less deafening and they could hear each other talk, and then Amy plopped down on the ground. "I feel so good," she said, gazing up at the star-strewn sky and watching her breath come out in frosty plumes. The night was chilly, but in her beer-warmed state she hadn't noticed.  
  
"Do you?" Ben asked. "I'd say you feel drunk."  
  
"Maybe that's it." Amy laughed. "But right now, that's synonymous with 'good.'" She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at Ben, smiling. "What did you want to talk to me about?"  
  
He was still standing above her. "Well, for one thing, our good friend Andy."  
  
Her smile started to fade. "What about him?"  
  
"Why you two aren't together. As in together."  
  
Amy looked surprised. "Because he's my friend! He's . he's like a brother. That would be weird. Wrong. Why would you ask me something like that, Ben?"  
  
"Because I think you're overlooking something, and as your friend and as his friend, I thought maybe I could help you see it a little clearer." Ben kneeled on the ground next to her. "He loves you, Amy."  
  
There was a moment of silence as Amy's fuzzy brain worked. Why were they sitting here talking about Andrew? Amy had been sure Ben was going to confess his own feelings for her, and yet he was for some reason harping on her best friend. What was this all about?  
  
"I love him, too, Ben. I told you, he's like my brother."  
  
Ben smiled and shook his head. "No, Lindley. That's not what I mean. He's in love with you. Don't you know that? Deep down, haven't you known that?"  
  
"That's ridiculous. Let's not talk about Andy, Ben. Let's talk about us."  
  
This time Ben looked surprised. "Us. I'm not following you here."  
  
They looked at each other, Amy propped on her elbows, Ben kneeling next to her, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. And then she leaned in and began to kiss him. Her lips opened on his, and she had time to think how wonderfully soft and strong they felt, and then he put his hands on her upper arms and pushed her firmly away from him.  
  
"Oh, Amy. I, I don't. . . "  
  
"What? What's the matter?"  
  
"I can't do that. No. That's not." He floundered for words as her eyes welled up with stinging tears.  
  
"I thought you wanted me to," Amy said, her voice coming out thin and hurt. Then the tears began to fall.  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
Ben and Amy both looked up to see Andrew standing there staring at them. The set way he was standing, his clenched jaw, and the absolute coldness in his eyes told them that he had seen the kiss. At the moment, Amy didn't care. All she knew was that she had to get away. She had to get away from Ben before he could hurt her anymore. In a flash, she was up, darting past Andy and across the grass. She could feel one of them, maybe both, running after her, but she didn't look back. She ran until she was at the fence, where she hurtled herself to the top at a breakneck pace and proceeded to fall to the ground on the other side. A flaring pain shot up from her ankle, and the tears that were already falling came harder.  
  
"Amy! Amy, please wait!"  
  
It wasn't the boys; it was Jessie. She ran to the fence and began to climb, more carefully than her friend had.  
  
"What the hell happened?" Jessie demanded. "Why are Ben and Andrew fighting? Why are you crying? What's going on?"  
  
Amy was crying too hard to answer. Jessie jumped down next to her and accidentally jarred Amy's ankle. She let out a cry of pain.  
  
"Are you hurt? Let me see." Jessie held her friend's leg out and examined the already swelling ankle. "Oh no. It looks bad. We need to find someone with a car." She glanced around as if hoping to see a handy car and driver somewhere nearby. "Here. Stand up, lean on me."  
  
"I have to get away, Jess," Amy managed through her sobs. "I have to get away. I can't see him. I can't see him!"  
  
"Who? Ben? Oh, Lord, girl, you've got to tell me what happened."  
  
"I kissed him," Amy wept. "I kissed him, Jess, and he shoved me away."  
  
"Oh, Amy." Jessie knelt down and put her arms around her heartbroken friend. Then she gasped, suddenly making a connection. "Did Andrew see it? Did he see you guys kissing?"  
  
Amy only nodded, her whole body shaking from the force of her sobs. She had yet to attach any importance to that fact. So what, Andy had seen her kissing guys before. She had had a boyfriend before.  
  
When the crying slowed down a bit, Jessie helped Amy up and they began making slow, limping progress toward town, hoping to find someone they knew who could give them a ride. That someone found them first. 


	4. Chapter 4

Doug's white and blue police cruiser pulled up to the curb next to the girls as they made their painful way along Cape Street toward home. He had jumped out and was at their side in an instant.  
  
"What happened? Amy, what's wrong? Is it your ankle? Come here."  
  
He picked her up in his arms and sat her on top of the police car.  
  
"It's fine," she said as he took her foot in his hand and examined it. "It's fine, I'm fine, everything's just fine. Yep, life's great," Amy said bitterly, still crying and still very drunk.  
  
Doug looked at her face closely, her foot still in his hand. "Yeah, I can see that. Where'd you girls get liquored up?"  
  
"Liquored up? I'm not liquored up, Dougie. I'm just fine. Didn't I tell you that?" Amy asked, dripping sarcasm, now laughing as well as crying. "But how lucky for us to run into you. Isn't it lucky, Jess?"  
  
Jessie, obviously uncomfortable, looked apologetically at Doug. "She's very upset, Sheriff Witter. She's had a bad night, and I can't even tell you how upset she is. Please cut her some slack right now."  
  
"Well thank you, Jessie, for that take on my daughter's mental state. How about you; have you been drinking?"  
  
"No sir! Not a drop." She smiled what she hoped was a believable and fetching smile.  
  
"And where, pray tell, did someone Amy's age get her hands on alcohol?"  
  
"Um, there was a little get-together at someone's house. Nothing big; there might have been a couple of beers there."  
  
"Uh huh. And you're sure it wouldn't have been at this illicit party at the Yacht Club golf course that I've heard about?"  
  
Jessie hesitated a moment too long. Doug nodded. "That's what I thought. Well, I've got the deputy on his way over there right now to check that one out, so you might want to thank your lucky stars you left when you did. That is, if you had been there, of course."  
  
"Oh Dougie, let it go. Why do you have to kill everyone's buzz?" Amy slurred from her perch on the hood of the car. "They're not hurting anyone. Most of them, anyway."  
  
Jessie and Doug ignored her. Then Jessie said, "I'd better be getting home."  
  
"I was going to suggest the same thing. I'll take this one from here," Doug said. "Thanks for your help."  
  
"Aim, I'll call you tomorrow, okay? You're going to be fine. We'll talk through this, and it will be fine; do you hear me?" Jessie said firmly to her friend.  
  
Amy didn't respond, and Jessie started home, relieved that the sheriff hadn't been in a more law-enforcing mood.  
  
Doug helped Amy into the backseat of the cruiser and told her to put her leg up on the seat. He went around to the driver's side and got in. "I'm not going to ask how you did this to yourself. You're okay now, though; we'll get the ankle bandaged up, and it'll be fine."  
  
Amy rolled her eyes as more tears flowed. "Do you think that's why I'm crying? Do you really think that's what's wrong with me?" she asked incredulously. "I don't give a damn about the stupid ankle."  
  
"I would suggest that you drop the attitude at any rate," Doug said warningly. "I'm not thrilled about the fact that you've been drinking. And I don't think Jack will take too kindly to that either."  
  
"Who cares?"  
  
"Knock it off, Amy."  
  
Amy sat in silence the rest of the way home.  
  
Doug stuck around the house long enough to wrap an Ace bandage around Amy's ankle and give her some Tylenol. Then he went back out to continue patrolling.  
  
It was an hour or so later when there was a knock at the back door. Amy had gotten herself under control by then; she was still mortified, but the tears had finally dried up and she felt mostly numb. She got up and limped over to open the door, thinking it might be Jessie. It was Andrew. She faced him through the screen door. There was dark blood caked on his lip and spots of it on his cream-colored Polo shirt.  
  
"What happened to you?" she asked.  
  
"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said, glancing down at her ankle, which was suspended in the air as she rested all her weight on her good foot.  
  
"I fell leaving the party," she said.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked.  
  
Amy stepped aside and let her friend in. He wordlessly grasped her around the waist and half-carried her to a chair in the kitchen. "I think we need to talk," he said.  
  
"No. I don't want to hear that from anyone else, ever," she said. "I don't want to talk. I don't want you to tell me anything I don't want to hear. Whatever you think you have to say to me, Andy, please just spare me."  
  
"You have feelings for Ben," he said in a tone that was impossible to read. "Don't you?"  
  
Amy laughed a sour laugh. "Seems like a moot point, doesn't it? You witnessed my fall from grace. And may I repeat myself? I don't want to talk about this."  
  
Andy looked at her soberly. "You should have told me," he said. "You used to tell me everything."  
  
She didn't answer for a long time. They sat silently. Finally, she said, "Yes, Andrew, I like him. I have feelings for him. Stupid, unrequited, immature feelings. I thought I might love him, and I didn't want to tell you because you're weird about stuff like that these days. You don't seem to want to hear anything that's going on in my life. But it's over now, and I realize that I never had a chance, so cut me some slack and let's drop it. I'm feeling bad enough as it is without you coming over to rub salt in my wounds. How did you get the bloody lip? What did Jessie mean when she said you and Ben were fighting?"  
  
This time Andrew was silent. "You know, I don't think it would even matter to you if you knew the truth. Sometimes you're just blind to everyone but yourself, Amy. I hate that about you."  
  
She looked him dead in the face, stung. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"I'd have to say you are what's wrong with me." Andrew got up from the table and left by the back door. Amy sat there staring after him, her poor tired brain trying to make sense of all this. She finally decided to go to bed before her dad got home. She really couldn't take another ugly confrontation tonight. 


	5. Chapter 5

She wasn't so lucky. She had put on her pajamas, hobbled to and from the bathroom, and was about to get into bed when she heard footsteps downstairs. She muttered a curse to herself and hurriedly turned off the overhead light, hoping he would assume she was asleep and leave her alone.  
  
The door opened a moment later, and Jack was silhouetted there. "Amy," he said. "I know you're not asleep."  
  
Amy groaned. "Did Dougie call you?"  
  
He flicked the light on and came into the room. "You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking, going out and getting drunk? Haven't we talked about that a million times?"  
  
"Why are you so quick to assume the worst about me?"  
  
"You were caught red-handed. There's no assuming going on here! Did you know that half those kids at that party tonight got taken to the police station? Do you know what it would look like for Doug if you were one of those kids?"  
  
Amy rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, let's not make things worse. We would hate for the weirdest family in Capeside to get even more negative attention. It's not like they don't already think we're an abomination in this town."  
  
"Cut it out, Amy. This isn't a joke."  
  
"Trust me, I'm not in a joking mood."  
  
Jack paused, looking at Amy for a moment in silence. Then his demeanor seemed to soften a bit. "All right, go to sleep. We'll deal with this in the morning, okay?"  
  
"I told Aunt Joey I'd go over and watch the John Dawson in the morning while she runs errands."  
  
"Well, when you get home, then. But this conversation is not over. I am not letting it go this time."  
  
He moved to turn off the light and leave the room, and Amy suddenly blurted out something that she hadn't even known she was still harboring. "Did my mom do drugs and drink and sleep around? Is that why her parents sent her away?"  
  
Jack froze with his hand on the light switch. "Where the hell did you get that from?" he asked.  
  
"Jessie. Her mom told her that."  
  
"Jessie's mom. Cindy didn't like Jen very much. She was jealous. A lot of girls were jealous of your mom, and you say things like that when you're jealous and there's nothing else you can say."  
  
Amy held her dad's gaze. "You didn't answer the question, though."  
  
"No. No, Amy, your mom wasn't like that."  
  
"Then why did her parents send her to live with Grams? You told me they were worried about her. Why would they be worried if she was living an altogether squeaky-clean life other than making a few adolescent 'mistakes,' as you called them? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I'm just genetically programmed to be the so-called town bad girl? Maybe it's not my fault at all. Maybe it's my mother's."  
  
"First of all, I don't want to hear you talk about her that way. Your mother was a good person; the best I've ever known. And yes, you are a lot like her, and that's why you're a good person. Amy, kids make mistakes; I know that. And growing up in this town with two gay fathers; I know how hard that's been on you sometimes, and I thank God every night that you're so well-adjusted in spite of that. That's why I do cut you a lot of slack, and maybe I've done you a disservice that way; maybe I should have been stricter with you, but I think you are a wonderful kid and you're going to turn into a wonderful adult. But until then, Dougie and I are here to make sure you stay on the right path. And what you did tonight, going to that party and getting drunk because you were feeling down, that's not the right path. And going away with boys, one of whom I know you think you have feelings for, that's not the right path. You think I'm being unreasonable and controlling, but I'm just looking out for you. I'm doing my job."  
  
Amy had winced at the mention of Ben. And she was more than a little hurt that her dad had said she thought she had feelings for him. He must not remember what it was like to be fifteen. She sat there thinking, Who cares if it's just a crush that will go away in a matter of time? Who cares, when it hurts so much now? Does it even matter if it's not real love I feel for him, when my heart is in a million pieces?  
  
"Good night, Dad."  
  
"Night, Aim. See you in the morning."  
  
Amy lay awake for a long time. Oh, how she wished her mom was here with her. She just knew that Jen would understand what she was going through in a way that her dad never could. She needed to talk to someone who had once been a teenage girl, someone who realized how useless it was to tell someone with a crush that it was just a crush, when it was killing you inside. Her thoughts settled on Joey, her uncle's wife. Joey was always good to talk to because she listened without judging. And she never tried to sugarcoat things like Aunt Andie, who always had to point out the bright side. She would talk to Joey tomorrow. 


	6. Chapter 6

Amy spent most of the following morning babysitting her two-year-old cousin, John Dawson, while Joey was running errands. John was high-spirited and hard to keep up with on one foot. Amy took him outside to play in the yard and settled herself on the porch to watch him run around with his toddler's aimless energy.  
  
"Well, look who's here; my favorite teenager," came a voice from behind her.  
  
Amy didn't even look up. "Hi Pacey."  
  
"How's my boy? Behaving himself this morning?"  
  
"Yeah, he's fine. I think he's about to tire himself out."  
  
The two looked out across the lawn at John, who was ramming his plastic Tonka pickup truck against a tree with all his might.  
  
Pacey took a seat next to Amy on the stone steps of the back porch. "So, I heard about your little adventure last night. How's the ankle?"  
  
Amy stretched her leg out and looked at the bandage-wrapped foot for a moment. "It doesn't hurt much," she said. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've already heard. I've come to terms with the fact that every move I make is immediate headline news around here."  
  
Pacey laughed. "Is that how it feels? Well, this is Capeside. Not a whole lot to talk about, so a sprained ankle and a drunk fifteen-year-old does become pretty noteworthy." He playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. "Now do you want to tell me how you came to be wandering the streets crippled and sloshed last night?"  
  
"No, not really."  
  
He nodded. "Fair enough, fair enough. I assume Jack and Dougie already read you the riot act."  
  
"More or less. So spare me the lecture."  
  
"Me, lecture? Come on, you know me better than that. I've been there; I was a kid once too, you know. Some say I still am, as a matter of fact. Dougie's one of them."  
  
Amy sniffed. "He's one to talk." They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching John Dawson, who hadn't noticed his father's arrival yet. "Hey, Pacey, if I ask you a question, will you give me a straight answer?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"You were good friends with my mom. What was she like? I mean, I've heard all the stories, but I have this feeling that she wasn't quite the saint my dad's always made her out to be. I just think I need to know the truth about her. You know, in case I'm following in her footsteps or something."  
  
"Wow, that's a question. But you should believe your dad on this one, kid. Jen was great. Not a saint, but then again, who is? But she was sweet, and smart, and loyal. She was always there for her friends. You know, she was in my corner the whole time I was trying to make your aunt Joey fall in love with me. She was the only one who was."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Jen chased me down one night and forced me to confess what I was feeling for Joey. And it was her constant nagging that eventually gave me the courage I needed to make a move."  
  
Amy smiled. "What move did you make, Pace?"  
  
"I kissed her. I pulled over on the side of the road one early morning on the way home from the bus station, and I kissed her. And then, how could she resist? My magnetism and charm won her over from that day forward."  
  
"Weren't you guys apart for like ten years after you dated in high school?" Amy asked pointedly.  
  
"Not that long, smartass," he said, smiling. "And she did wise up and come back to me."  
  
Amy sighed bitterly. "But sometimes you shouldn't just take a chance like that. Sometimes a kiss is better left undone."  
  
"Do you speak from experience, oh wise child?"  
  
"I can't talk to you about this. Men don't understand anything."  
  
"Ahh, you have been talking to Joey too much. Some of us do understand the complex inner workings of the female mind, believe it or not. But I'll respect your privacy, and just tell you that whoever he is, he'd be crazy not to be dazzled by the beautiful Amy Lindley." He smiled and stood up, patting Amy on the head affectionately. "Well, I'm going to try to get the little monster down for a quick nap before lunch. I don't have to be back at the restaurant until tonight, so if you want to get out of here."  
  
"Actually, I'm going to wait around and talk to Joey."  
  
"Sure thing. Hey J.D.!" he called to the dark-haired little boy in the yard, whose eyes lit up at the sight of his father. He left the Tonka truck where it lay on its side in the dirt and ran to Pacey. They disappeared inside, leaving Amy alone.  
  
Half an hour later, Amy was helping Joey put away groceries and filling her in on the morbid events of the previous night. Joey listened attentively and sympathetically, and when the story was done, she was silent for a moment.  
  
"Wow, what a night, huh?" she said at last. "How do you feel today?"  
  
"Slightly hung over, moderately injured, and profoundly embarrassed," Amy answered immediately. "In no particular order. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to go and kiss him?"  
  
"It wasn't stupid. Kissing someone you like never is. The way you went about it, though, well . No one wants a new relationship to start out with a drunken kiss at a high school party."  
  
"But he doesn't even feel the same way, Joey! He pushed me away. And I cried like a baby in front of him. How am I ever supposed to face him again?"  
  
"You know, I've seen you guys together," she said. "I've seen the way he looks at you, and I wouldn't be so quick to assume that his reaction last night means he doesn't feel the same way about you. I don't think that's the case at all."  
  
"Then why would he do that?"  
  
"Maybe it has more to do with Andrew than you realize. I mean, that's what Ben wanted to talk to you about, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, but that doesn't even make sense! Andy and I are just friends. Ben knows that. Are you saying Ben didn't kiss me back because he thinks Andy and I are more than friends?"  
  
"Oh, Amy." Joey laughed. "Trust me, 'just friends' is the most complicated phrase in the English language. It's never what it seems. Or if it is for one of you, you can just bet it's not for the other."  
  
"You think Andy has feelings for me."  
  
"I think you should talk to him. I can't speak for him, but from my experience, if you don't talk about these things, they just get worse."  
  
Pacey walked in then. He came up behind Joey and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you getting involved in the teenage crises of the new crop of Capeside youth, Josephine Witter?" he asked. "Amy, you should know that this one right here was single-handedly responsible for every bit of melodrama in our days at Capeside High. She may not be the best source of advice on how NOT to break hearts."  
  
"Single-handedly? I think not," Joey said, slapping at him playfully. "I'd say there were at least five or six of us contributing to the overabundance of melodrama in this town. And you broke a few hearts in your time too, Mr. Witter."  
  
"I'm going to head over to Andy's now," Amy said suddenly, standing up from the barstool she had been sitting in with her foot propped up on a kitchen chair. "Tell John Dawson I'll see him later this week, okay?"  
  
"Well wait, you're not going to walk on that ankle," Pacey said. "Come on, I'll give you a ride." 


	7. Chapter 7

Amy was accustomed to entering the Harpers' house without knocking; for most of her life, after all, Andy's family had been an extension of her own. Today, however, knowing that he was mad at her, she decided to ring the bell. No one came to the door, so she rang again and waited. She was about to give up when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Andrew walking up the flagstone path to the front door, a bag of groceries in his arm.  
  
"Hi there," she said, smiling. "I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me today."  
  
He didn't return her smile as he moved past her and began fumbling in his jeans pocket for his keys. "Revisit that idea," he said coolly. "What are you here for anyway? Have you come to get my blessing to go out with our dear friend Benjamin?"  
  
Amy's smile faded fast. "Oh come on, Andy. Since when do I need an agenda to come over? And I certainly know I wouldn't have to ask your permission to go out with someone, mutual friend or otherwise."  
  
"Well, that makes one of you," he mumbled so quietly that Amy barely heard. She decided not to pursue that vein at any rate.  
  
"You're not going to make it easy for me to make peace, are you?"  
  
"Actually, Amy, I'm not really up for the peace talks today, if you don't mind."  
  
"I do mind. You forced me to talk to you last night when I didn't want to, and now it's your turn. And since you so brashly informed me that I am your problem, I think you owe it to me to expand on that a little bit." She caught his elbow and pulled him around to face her. "Please."  
  
At last his eyes met hers, and he sighed. "You're hard to say no to, you know that?"  
  
"That's what they tell me," Amy said, satisfied.  
  
Andrew took his grocery bag inside and then came back out to sit next to Amy on the porch swing. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms encircling them in a childlike posture that stirred something deep in his heart. He had no idea how she did this to him, managing to get her way even when he was dead set against giving in to her. He didn't know what he could possibly say to her now. Could he tell her that his anger was just a flimsy mask for the hurt she was inflicting on him every time she failed to notice that his feelings for her had changed? Could he tell her he loved her? Would it make a difference? He knew deep in his gut that it wouldn't, and that hearing from her that she didn't feel the same way would kill him. Worse, it might go a step further and damage their friendship.  
  
He looked at her. God, she was beautiful. The sunlight played in her hair, making it even lighter than usual, with bright highlights that were so shiny it hurt to look at them. A slight breeze blew a wisp of it across her full pink lips, and she brushed it away carelessly. Her clear blue eyes were fixed on his, watching him watching her, waiting for him to say something, to explain himself.  
  
"Ben came to me the night before the party," he began with no forethought of what was coming. "He wanted to talk about you." Oh, it hurt to see her eyes light up at the mention of his name. Andrew had to force himself to continue. "He asked me what I would think if . . . He wanted to know if it would bother me if he . . ."  
  
"If he what?" she prodded gently, when it seemed that he wasn't going to continue.  
  
"If he asked you out," Andrew finished painfully, afraid now to look at her, to see the eagerness he was sure to read in her eyes.  
  
"And what did you tell him?" Amy asked evenly, her expression impossible to read.  
  
Andrew hesitated even longer this time, knowing that his answer would potentially piss her off more than anything he had ever said to her. Finally, he took a deep breath and began to ramble, still avoiding her gaze, which he could all but feel burning into the side of his face. "I told him the truth, Aim. I told him that, yes, it would be weird for me. That the history between us is complicated, and that it would upset the whole balance we've got going in our little group of friends. I'm sorry, Amy, but it's the truth. I think it would be a mistake. I mean, what would happen when you guys broke up? That would be inevitable, after all -- we're in high school, and how many high school romances work out in the long run? And if . . . WHEN you guys broke up it would get weird between all of us. We'd have to choose sides, we'd have to change and adapt to a whole new dynamic. It would be a mistake. He told me he saw my side of it, and that he agreed," Andrew finished somewhat lamely.  
  
"And it's your place to decide what would be a mistake. In my love life." Amy's voice was still even, but a hard edge had crept in. Andrew picked up on it right away and knew they were entering the danger zone.  
  
"That's not what I'm saying," he said in a calm, pacifying tone that he would use with an upset five-year-old. "I'm just . . . He wanted my opinion, and I gave it to him, that's all."  
  
"That's not what you did, and you know it. You know exactly what you did. And you want to know something; I don't really care why you did it. You had no right. You can't grant or withhold your blessing when it comes to my life, Andrew. I don't belong to you. That blessing is not yours to give." Amy stood up from the swing, her blue eyes bright with fire as her mother's temper welled up in her.  
  
"Amy, don't blow this out of proportion. It's not . . ."  
  
"I had my heart broken last night. I sprained my ankle, I cried my eyes out, and I worried myself sick over something that had nothing whatsoever to do with me. It was all about your macho sense of territory. And if I understand correctly, you guys ended up beating each other up over a kiss that only happened because your best friend was trying to help you out with something you've been too afraid to handle yourself. So don't talk to me about proportion, Andy. I've had it."  
  
Amy cursed her ankle because it prevented her from making the dramatic exit she felt the speech called for. Instead, she limped over to the porch steps and hopped to the bottom, ignoring Andrew as he kept repeating her name. He watched her limp across the lawn and toward her own house, and finally he put his head in his hands and sighed heavily, wondering why the hell he'd had to fall in love with his best friend. 


	8. Chapter 8

Amy burst into the house and started for her room. Jack called to her, but she ignored him and slammed her bedroom door in response. She cranked up the stereo and flopped down on her bed, seething. She was angry at Andy for butting into her love life, at Ben for going to him in the first place as if she were a possession to be handed back and forth between them regardless of her will, but mostly at life in general for complicating things when she wasn't looking. It was bad enough that she had these feelings for Ben without Andy having the same ones for her, and then using them against her the way he had. Why couldn't life stay simple like it was in junior high?  
  
She spent a good part of the afternoon in her room, listening to depressing music and writing furiously in her journal. When she finally emerged and went downstairs, Jack was sitting in the living room watching a football game on TV and grading test papers.  
  
"Better?" he asked without looking up as Amy dropped onto the couch next to him.  
  
"I've spent the last three hours in my room achieving self-actualization. Behold this unique specimen of the angst-free teen."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow at her. "Better?" he repeated.  
  
"Marginally," Amy answered, a little more honestly. "Except for the fact that I hate men."  
  
Jack laughed. "Well, I can't say I'm not relieved. That should make the overprotective father bit much easier."  
  
Wanting to change the subject before he asked her for specifics, Amy leaned over his arm to glimpse the papers he was marking with his red pen. "Have you gotten to mine yet?" she asked.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I did. And you got the Wife of Bath's tale mixed up with the Miller's."  
  
"Kill me now. I don't deserve to live," Amy groaned dramatically.  
  
"It wouldn't hurt you to read the book."  
  
"It might. It's boring."  
  
"My class bores you?"  
  
"Of course not, Daddy. Geoffrey Chaucer bores me."  
  
"Oh, I meant to tell you, Dougie and I are going out with Pacey and Joey for dinner tonight. They're bringing John Dawson over to keep an eye on you," Jack teased.  
  
Amy sighed. "But I was going to the movies with Jessie tonight."  
  
"No, you weren't. You're grounded tonight; did I forget to tell you that?"  
  
"Dad."  
  
"Your companion for the evening will be here around seven." Jack leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"It's hard to brood with a toddler in the house, you know."  
  
"So stop brooding. I think you've filled your quota for a lifetime anyway."  
  
An evening with a two-year-old didn't sound like the most appealing prospect, but as she was still angry at Andrew and couldn't even fathom the thought of seeing Ben at the moment, maybe babysitting wasn't the worst thing in the world. She really didn't have a choice, anyway. At least Jack hadn't tried to resume last night's lecture just yet. Maybe he realized she was still not up for it.  
  
When Pacey and Joey came to drop off John Dawson, Amy managed to pull her aunt aside for a moment, long enough to fill her in on the scene on Andrew's front porch that afternoon. Joey winced when the story was over. "That sounds ugly," she said. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"I have no idea," Amy said helplessly. "You don't have any insight into my personal little soap opera?"  
  
"I've got lots of insight, sweetie, but most of it wouldn't do you any good. If Ben and Andrew were Pacey and Dawson, I could write you a script to go by. But they're not, so unfortunately, you've got to puzzle out all the particulars for yourself. But believe me, I know it's no fun to be at the center of this kind of tug-of-war."  
  
Amy knew all about Joey's own experience in high school and on into college with Pacey and Dawson, another key player in her mom's group of friends and little John's namesake. When Amy was younger, she had thought the whole thing was romantic. She would have given anything to have boys fighting over her like that. But now . . . now things were different. Now all she wanted was for her life to go back to the way it had been when the three of them (and Jessie) were all just good friends.  
  
"What kind of tug-of-war?" Pacey asked, coming over to them as Dougie scooped a squealing John Dawson up into the air and began to spin him around like an airplane.  
  
"None of your business, nosey," Joey said. "Amy and I were having girl talk."  
  
Pacey grinned. "Are we discussing members of the male gender? Careful now, Jo. Don't poison her innocent mind with your bitter feminist propaganda." He dodged a playful slap from his wife. "Sorry, couldn't resist," he said. "But really, Aim, if you need help in the love department, come to your favorite uncle."  
  
"No need. Amy hates men, haven't you heard?" Jack threw in from across the room. "Go figure; she's raised by two of them and turns on the whole bunch. Doug, put him down. He's going to puke."  
  
"He's fine, aren't you, big guy? And what's this I hear about my little girl having problems in the romance department?" Doug added. "Do I need to go round up a juvenile delinquent?"  
  
"Leave her alone," Joey demanded of all of them. "And let's go; we've got reservations." She turned to Amy. "Hang in there, okay? You don't have to decide anything right now. Sometimes things just work themselves out."  
  
When they had all finally left, Amy sat down on the couch. "Well, what now?" she asked John Dawson, who was lying on the floor and still looking a little green around the gills from Dougie's spinning session. "Want to watch a video?"  
  
"No," he said automatically.  
  
"Play a game?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Eat something?"  
  
"No."  
  
"All right then, J.D., give me a break. What do you want to do?"  
  
"No."  
  
Amy sighed. It was going to be a long evening. 


	9. Chapter 9

John Dawson fell asleep on the couch around 9:30, and Amy settled into an armchair to read. When the doorbell rang, she glanced quickly at J.D. to see if he would wake up. He didn't, so she got up and made her way to the front door to answer it. She was surprised to see Ben standing there. Surprised and, deep down, pleased. They looked at each other silently for a moment. Ben had a nasty-looking bruise below his left eye.  
  
"Hi," he said finally. "Can I come in?"  
  
"John Dawson's asleep on the couch. I don't want to wake him up," Amy said.  
  
"Oh. Well then, can you come out here for just a minute?"  
  
She glanced back toward the living room where J.D. slept peacefully. Then she sighed and followed Ben out onto the dark front porch. "I don't really know what to say to you," she said truthfully. "I'm sorry about last night. I acted like a drunken idiot. I never should have done something so stupid, and I really regret it. And I'm sorry he hit you."  
  
"I don't," Ben said inexplicably.  
  
Amy paused, puzzled. "What?"  
  
"I don't regret that you did it."  
  
"Really."  
  
"I wanted to do it myself. I've wanted to kiss you for months. And if I hadn't just had that conversation with Andy, I would have reacted totally differently. I'm the one who's sorry, Amy. I'm sorry I hurt you. You have no idea how sorry I am about that."  
  
"He has nothing to do with this," Amy said. "I don't understand why you went to him in the first place. Do you know how insulting that is?"  
  
"Yes. I do. But I know how he feels about you. I guess I wanted to sort of . . . I don't know . . . warn him or something. Feel him out; see how badly he would take it. I guess we know now," Ben said, touching the bruise under his eye lightly.  
  
"Did he tell you . . ."  
  
"He didn't have to. It's so obvious, Amy, I think you're the only one who doesn't see it. And last night, I thought that maybe if I told you that, if I made you see it, then you could deal with him on your own terms and then we could be free to figure things out for ourselves."  
  
"You wanted to get him out of the picture."  
  
"It's not like that."  
  
"He's my best friend."  
  
"You think I don't know that? Dammit, Amy, he's mine, too. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want him to hate me. But I can't just go on pretending that I don't have feelings for you. I've never felt this way about anyone before. And it's not fair that when I finally do, it might be ruined by someone whose main objection to us is his desire to keep his claim on you!"  
  
Amy couldn't respond to that because she knew the truth of it and couldn't bring herself to say anything bad about Andrew, even as angry as she had been at him all day long. This was exactly what she had wanted. Ben was sitting here telling her that he felt about her the same way she felt about him, and now there was this new tangle. The Andrew factor. Their argument this morning had made one thing clear to her: If she and Ben pursued a relationship, it would break Andy's heart and possibly destroy friendships all the way around. But here was Ben, his deep green eyes fixed firmly on her blue ones, waiting for her to say something that would override any objection Andrew might have, and she felt so torn she didn't know what to do.  
  
Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her. It was soft and sweet but firm, and his hand found hers and gripped it tightly at the same time. Amy leaned into the kiss, not pulling away for long moments. When they finally pulled apart, there were tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, as if her reaction to the kiss confirmed his fears. "I'm sorry, now I'm the idiot. Now I regret it . . ."  
  
"I don't," she interrupted.  
  
His gaze snapped back to her face. "What?"  
  
"I don't regret that you did it," she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It was about time." She leaned up and kissed him again. This time, he wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her down to the cold brick porch steps. His hand went to her hair as the kiss deepened, and he smoothed loose strands back from her forehead. Amy's heart was pounding in her ears as she lost herself in the kiss. . .  
  
"I guess I should have called first."  
  
Amy and Ben pulled apart as if a jolt of electricity had zapped them. Andrew was standing on the flagstone path in front of the steps, just a shadowy figure in the darkness. There was a heavy, loaded silence as Amy's heart began to sink. Oh, this was bad. This was worse than before.  
  
She stood up, balancing carefully on her good foot, and started toward her friend. "Andy, what are you doing here?" He ignored her, his icy glare directed straight at Ben, who was glaring right back. "What the hell's going on, man?" Andrew said, his voice deadly calm. "I thought we talked about this."  
  
Ben nodded. "Yeah, we did. But I wanted to hear it from Amy. And apparently, she doesn't share your idea that this would be a cataclysmic mistake that might bring about the end of the world as we know it. Look, Andy, I'm sorry you had to see this, but. . ."  
  
"Don't. Don't give me that crap. You are sorry though. You're a sorry excuse for a friend."  
  
"Andy, I think you're overreacting. Let's not let this get out of control, OK? You guys have done enough macho sparring on my behalf. I'm not impressed." Amy reached for Andy's hand to try to calm him down, but he jerked away, his glare turning on her with a suddenness that surprised her.  
  
"Stop it," he said in that quietly menacing voice that she had never heard before tonight. "Don't touch me right now, all right?"  
  
"Look, man, if you want to be angry at someone, it's me. I came over; she didn't invite me. We didn't plan for this to happen." Ben was coming down the porch steps toward them, and Amy wanted to shove him back. This wasn't going to end well; she had never seen Andrew like this and she just wanted him to calm down and go home. She could work this out with him, but not now, not in front of Ben.  
  
Andy and Ben stood facing each other, and Amy could almost see the testosterone flying between them. She was on the verge of begging them to stop this, to stop tearing her apart like this. . .  
  
"Amy! Ameeeee!"  
  
All three of them looked up to see John Dawson's tiny silhouette standing in the front doorway, clutching his favorite blanket. Amy went to him. "It's all right, buddy, I'm here," she said, picking him up. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Thirsty," he said.  
  
"OK." She turned back toward the guys. "I'm going to get him something to drink," she said. "Both of you, I mean it. I want this to stop."  
  
She carried J.D. into the kitchen and got out one of the sippy cups they kept there for him. She began filling it with apple juice as J.D. watched her intently. "Where's Mommy?" he asked.  
  
"They'll be home soon, sweetie," she told him, putting the lid on the cup and handing it to him. "Now, I need you to do me a big favor. I want you to go drink your juice and watch TV for a while, all right? Can you do that like a big boy?"  
  
He nodded, always eager to do anything "like a big boy." Amy turned the TV on, put it on the cartoon channel, and kissed J.D. on the head. "Amy will be right outside, OK? But stay here unless you need me."  
  
She hurried back outside just in time to see Andrew shove Ben hard in the chest. Ben reeled backward a few steps, then recovered himself and raised both hands in surrender. "Look, man, this isn't going to solve anything," he said. "She's not yours, don't you get that?"  
  
"She's not yours either. And I know you, and I know your history with women, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you hurt Amy."  
  
"You know nothing about me. I'm not gonna hurt her, but what do you think you're doing right now? Look, get it through your head. If she wanted you, she would have let you know by now, right? She wants me, man, I win."  
  
"You asshole. What do you know about Amy?"  
  
"I know that she told me she thinks of you like a brother. And that, my friend, isn't exactly rolling out the welcome mat for a relationship, if you know what I mean."  
  
Andy's fist flew and caught Ben on the chin, throwing his head back. Amy screamed. "Stop it! Right now!" She ran down the steps and pushed her way between them before Ben could hit back. She stood in front of Ben, facing Andy, fire in her eyes. "Go home, Andrew. I can't believe you. Go!"  
  
He looked from Ben to Amy, his breath coming in short pants. His expression was stricken, as if he couldn't believe that she was telling him to leave while she stood protectively in front of Ben. It wasn't supposed to be that way. Not at all. The silence stretched out until a car turned into the driveway, Andy's eyes never leaving Amy's face.  
  
"Hey guys, is everything all right?" Doug said, getting out of the driver's seat and coming toward them. "Amy?"  
  
No one answered. Amy tore her eyes away from Andy's, stepped out from between them, and went inside without a backward glance. 


	10. Chapter 10

Amy went straight to her room when she got inside, as she felt like crying and hated to let her family see that. She lay facedown on the bed, a million feelings rushing through her. Above all, she could see Andy's face, that look of hurt mixed with betrayal and anger. She might have done some serious damage here. Things were shifting, and there was really nothing that she could do to stop the progression of events. She did want Ben, and she knew that was killing Andrew, and there was no way around it.  
  
"Amy, are you all right?" Jack asked from the hallway outside her room.  
  
"I'm fine, please go away," she responded, her voice muffled by the pillow.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked. "Just for a minute."  
  
He took her silence as permission and opened the door, coming over to sit next to her on the bed. He rubbed her back for a few moments before speaking. "Want to tell me what happened?" he asked finally.  
  
"I've ruined everything," she said. "Andrew hates me, Ben thinks he's 'won' me, and I hate this whole situation. I want it to go back to the way it was, Dad. Why does it have to be so hard?"  
  
"Well, because you're a teenager, and that makes things at least ten times as hard as they should be. It toughens you up, prepares you for being an adult."  
  
"God, I wish my mom were here." Amy was taken aback by her own words. She turned sideways to look at her dad, to see his reaction to that. He had closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. Great, she'd hurt him too. There was no end to her power to inflict pain on those she loved. "I mean, it would be good to talk to her. Not that I can't talk to you. It's just that. . ."  
  
"No, babe, you don't have to explain," Jack assured her quickly, his voice husky. "It's perfectly natural for you to feel that way, especially at this time in your life. In case you haven't noticed, Dougie and I are sort of clueless about how to parent a teenage girl. We're just feeling our way through this, and I know we're not enough sometimes. And even Joey; she's great, but she's not your mom. I completely understand how you feel." He paused, and his next words came out in a choked tone that made Amy's tears start up again. "I wish your mom were here, too. You have no idea how much I wish that."  
  
Amy sat up and put her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."  
  
"I just feel bad for you, Amy. That's all. I just know how close you and your mom would have been, and it kills me to see you going through all this crap that she could've helped you with. She was great with stuff like this. I'm not. I just want to go beat up the guys who are causing you all this pain."  
  
Amy smiled through her streaming tears. "You don't have to. They're beating up each other."  
  
Jack smiled back at her and affectionately wiped a few tears off her face. "And who better to fight over than the stunning beauty I see before me? Looks like the guys have pretty good taste in women."  
  
"I need a beer," Amy said, her eyes twinkling.  
  
"All right, young lady." Jack shook his head in mock exasperation. "Are you going to be OK now?" he asked as he started for the door.  
  
"Yes, I guess so. Say goodbye to Pacey and Joey and J.D. for me, all right?"  
  
"Will do. Good night, baby."  
  
Amy lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn't feel like sleeping, though. Besides the fact that it was only 10:30, too many conflicting emotions and thoughts were running through her head. She considered calling Jessie to fill her in on what had happened tonight, but the thought of reliving the whole ugly mess was very unappealing at the moment. So she just lay there and listened to the muffled voices downstairs and thought about Ben and Andrew. And reached a conclusion.  
  
Seemingly without thinking, she suddenly had the phone in her hand and was dialing Ben's number. He answered on the second ring.  
  
"Hi, it's me," she said.  
  
"Amy. Are you OK? I'm sorry about tonight, I didn't mean for any of that to happen."  
  
"I know you didn't. Look Ben, I just called to tell you that I can't do this."  
  
"What? Don't say that, Amy! I knew you were going to react this way. Damn him!"  
  
"No, it's my fault. It's my problem. Don't blame him. I want you guys to get back to normal. And I want things between him and me to get back to normal. And there's no way that's going to happen if we go through with it. I'm sorry, Ben. I really am. I'll talk to you later, OK?"  
  
"Amy, don't . . ."  
  
She hung up and let out the breath she had been holding, fighting back another bout of tears that wanted to escape. Well, that was done. And as soon as she could look Andrew in the face again without wanting to slap him, they could work things out and forgive and forget. At least it hadn't gone too far to be salvaged. She couldn't imagine life without Andy. She lay back in bed, exhausted, her head, her ankle, and her heart throbbing. Without meaning to, she slipped off to sleep. . .  
  
And awoke to a sharp tapping sound coming from her window. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was after midnight. She swung herself off the bed and limped over to open the window.  
  
"Hi," Ben said from his perch on the roof ledge.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked in a whisper.  
  
"Can I come in before I get myself killed, please?"  
  
"You've got to stop dropping by like this," Amy said, stepping aside to let him through. His foot caught on the window ledge as he was making his way inside, and he fell with a crash to the floor. Amy winced. "Be quiet!" she snapped. "My dads will kill you and me both if they hear you in my bedroom at this time of night!"  
  
He smirked at her, disentangling his leg from the window and standing up. "I'll try to land more gracefully next time, Lindley," he said. "Now sit down. We have to talk." He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her onto the foot of her bed.  
  
"I said what I had to say to you, Ben."  
  
"Yeah, well I didn't get a chance to respond before you hung up on me. I think you're making a big mistake by playing into his hands, you know. Do you want to encourage his idea that you belong to him? You're the rope in his demented little game of tug-of-war, Amy, and you deserve so much more than that! You're selling yourself short if you choose to coddle him now and miss out on something that could be so special between us." Ben took her hand as he said this last, gazing into her eyes. She almost melted under his stare, but then a thought occurred to her, and she snatched her hand out of his.  
  
"Don't forget that you're holding one end of that rope. I heard you tell him that you won. Do you think I like being talked about that way?"  
  
"You're completely right. I shouldn't have said that. It was a low blow, but it was directed at him, not at you. I'd never say anything to hurt you."  
  
Amy sighed. "You don't understand how Andy and I work, Ben."  
  
"I think I have a pretty good idea. I know how close you are. And I doubt that he would let this ruin your friendship. He's going to be hurt, he's going to hate me, and that's all right. Because at the end of the day, it's you he cares about, and he'll do anything to save your friendship. You can have both of us, Amy. You don't have to choose. I would never make you." She noticed that he put a bit of emphasis on the "I."  
  
Just then the door swung open, Amy screamed, and Ben jumped, dropping her hand as if it had burned him. It was Doug, looking formidable even in boxers and an undershirt. His blue eyes flashed angrily. "What the hell are you doing in my daughter's room at this time of night?" he demanded, taking a step toward Ben, who took a bigger step away.  
  
"Sheriff, I, uh, we were just talking, sir. I'm sorry. I'll go now."  
  
"Damn right you will. Amy, did you let this guy in?"  
  
Just lately, Amy couldn't tolerate Doug's tendencies to flaunt his authority. She reacted with smart responses and angry quips in much the same way Pacey had always dealt with his brother. Now, over her initial scare, she rolled her eyes. "Dougie, don't get all upset over nothing. We're talking. Do you see any clothes lying on the floor? Are we not fully dressed? What's your problem?"  
  
"Ben, get out. Use the front door. Next time I catch you in my daughter's bedroom, you'd better hope I'm not wearing my weapon."  
  
Ben glanced toward Amy. "We'll talk tomorrow. Please think about what I said." Then he quickly stepped past Doug, muttering another apology, and went out into the dark hallway.  
  
"Why do you have to be such an ass?!" Amy found herself yelling at Doug.  
  
"Watch it, Amy. I've just about had it with your smart mouth."  
  
"And I've just about had it with you! At least Dad tries to understand my life; you just want me to be a little kid forever. You can't treat me like that anymore! I'm fifteen years old, and I'm tired of being treated like I'm John Dawson's age!"  
  
"Hey, hey, what's up?" Jack asked, coming up behind Doug. His hair was rumpled, and his sleepy eyes registered concern as he looked back and forth between his daughter and Doug. "What's all the yelling about?"  
  
Doug ignored him. "I want you to stay away from that boy," he said to Amy, almost challenging her. "He's not the kind of kid you should be hanging around with. Ever since you two became so chummy, your whole attitude has changed, and we're both sick of it."  
  
Amy laughed humorlessly. "You'd like to be able to pick my friends for me, wouldn't you? Well guess what, Dougie; not only do you not have the authority to do that, you're not even my father! How dare you try to run my life?"  
  
"HEY! Amy, enough!" Jack shouted, shock apparent in his voice and his wide eyes. "Guys, what happened here?"  
  
Doug looked at Amy for another few moments, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, and then he pushed past Jack and went down the hall to their bedroom, slamming the door so hard that the windows rattled in their frames. 


	11. Chapter 11

Amy's shoulders sagged, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have said that."  
  
Jack frowned. "I don't think it's me you need to apologize to," he said seriously. "What led to that, anyway?"  
  
"Ben was here."  
  
"In your room? This late?"  
  
"We were just talking, I swear! You know I'm not that stupid. I called him earlier and he didn't like the way we left things, so he came to work it out in person. Then Dougie burst in and started in with his psycho sheriff routine, and I just blew up, I guess. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."  
  
"Yeah, actually, I think you did. What you just said to him is something we've been afraid of hearing from you since you were old enough to talk. It hurts to have that hurled in your face when you've done the best job you can of being a surrogate father. You owe him more than that, Amy. I'm disappointed in you." He started to leave, then turned back. "And he's right, you know. You have changed since you and Ben started hanging out more. I don't think that's Andy's influence. Maybe you want to consider that when you're thinking about who you'd rather be with."  
  
Jack shut the door and left Amy there, feeling about as low as she'd felt all day, and that was saying a lot.  
  
She woke up on Sunday morning with a headache and a heavy feeling in her chest. It took all of ten seconds for her to remember why she felt so bad. There was Andrew, who might never speak to her again. There was Ben, who would probably give up on her as not worth the effort now that he'd been brushed off by her, threatened by a rather intimidating sheriff, and punched--twice--by a possessive best friend. And there was Dougie, who she had hurt for no good reason, and Jack, who was disappointed in her. These were not good thoughts to wake up to.  
  
Amy dragged herself downstairs to the kitchen, where Doug was washing breakfast dishes at the sink. She sat at the table and stared at his back. He made no indication that he knew she was there. "Where's Dad?" she asked finally.  
  
"Out jogging," Doug replied shortly.  
  
"Oh." Amy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She hated to apologize; it always seemed unnatural, and she never knew just how to go about it. "Are you mad at me?" she asked finally.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Can I say I'm sorry?"  
  
"You can."  
  
"Well, I am. I shouldn't have been so mean last night. I just can't stand it when you get on those power trips of yours. I've had a really bad last couple of days, and I guess I took it out on you. But I didn't mean it, Dougie. You're a good dad."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"That's it? Aren't you even gonna look at me?"  
  
Doug turned from the sink, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "I accept your apology. But that doesn't fix everything. You need to straighten up, Amy. Drinking is out, boys sneaking into your room at night is out, and the attitude you've been giving me lately is out. Call it a power trip if you want, but this is the way it's going to be as long as you're under our care. Do you understand?"  
  
Amy fought the urge to respond sarcastically, though this was a prime example of Doug's dictator tendencies that she hated. "Yes," she said tightly.  
  
With that taken care of, Amy decided to get out of the house for a while. She wanted to take a walk, but with her ankle hampering her, she decided to just go sit out on the pier and think. Or mope. She dangled her feet over the edge of the boards and gazed out at the still water of the creek. In the back of her mind, she was thinking that maybe Andy would see her out here and come over. She desperately wanted to see him, to try to patch things up, maybe, but she didn't quite dare go to him just yet. She knew how he worked. Forcing things too early, while he was still so upset, would only make the situation worse.  
  
It wasn't Andy who showed up, but Ben. For the first time, Amy was almost disappointed to see him. She was also painfully aware of the fact that Andrew had a clear view of the pier from his bedroom window. That made her feel nervous and guilty, as if she were doing something wrong.  
  
"You don't give up, do you?" she said to Ben, as he took a seat so close to her that their thighs were touching.  
  
"Nope. We weren't finished last night before your dad tried to kill me."  
  
"I'm sorry about that. He's unreasonable sometimes."  
  
"He's just concerned for you. I sort of have a reputation as a ladies man, you know."  
  
Amy smiled. "I do know. I think your colorful history is all fabricated, though. If you're so worldly where women are concerned, what could you possibly want with someone as inexperienced and naïve as me?"  
  
"That's one of your most attractive points. I love that about you."  
  
"Look, Ben, I know you want to work all this out right now, but I don't think it's the time or the place." Almost unconsciously, she threw a glance toward Andy's house. It didn't escape Ben.  
  
"You're not doing anything wrong by talking to me," he said seriously. "You've got to get over that idea. It's not healthy."  
  
"He can see us if he looks out the window. . ."  
  
"So what, Amy? So freaking what?! Is it a crime, talking to one of your closest friends in broad daylight in view of another friend who is acting like a jealous idiot and who, in my humble opinion, has proven nothing in the last two days except that he doesn't deserve the pleasure of your company? Why are you doing this to yourself?"  
  
"Ben, it's complicated!"  
  
"It doesn't have to be," he muttered. "Last night, before he showed up, it didn't feel that complicated. Kissing you didn't feel complicated."  
  
"But I can't risk it. That's what I tried to tell you on the phone last night; why didn't you just take my word for it?" Amy said in a pleading tone. "I don't want to lose you, Ben. But I CAN'T lose him. Those are my choices as I see them, and that's why I made my decision."  
  
"I don't accept that."  
  
"Well, you're just going to have to. It's--"  
  
He stopped her words with a kiss so sudden that it took her several moments to register what had happened. When she did, she pulled away and stood up. "Don't! You've got to stop doing that! It's not what I want."  
  
"It's not what you want? Are you sure about that?" He got to his feet too, and they stood facing each other. "Because I think it is. You're lying to yourself if you believe that."  
  
"Can you please just go? I have to fix things with him, Ben. I have to make it OK, and then I can deal with this. Until then, it's just not going to be right."  
  
Ben laughed bitterly. "Sure, Amy. I'm sure if you just explain it to him, he'll give us his blessing and we'll all live happily ever after. Go ask his permission to have a life that doesn't revolve around him. Because that's what it amounts to, you know. You can't make a move in your life without his approval, can you? Maybe you're right, this is just too complicated. I'm sorry to have intruded on your soap opera here."  
  
He started back down the pier, and Amy stared after him, stung by his sudden outburst. "Ben.?"  
  
"See you later, Amy. Give Andrew my best," he called back over his shoulder, his voice dripping sarcasm. 


	12. Chapter 12

She stayed out on the pier for a long time. It seemed like hours later when she heard him coming up behind her, and as much as she had wanted to see him, she didn't turn around. "I'm not good company at the moment," she said. "Especially where you're concerned."  
  
"Are you all right?" Andy asked quietly.  
  
"No, not really. I've had a hell of a weekend. How about you?"  
  
"Same," he said. "Can I sit with you?"  
  
She didn't respond, so he sat down next to her, and they both avoided each other's eyes and stared out at the water. "You don't hate me?" she asked.  
  
"Never. Don't be stupid. You?"  
  
"I'm doing my best, but it's not working," Amy said. "If it were possible, I guess I would have accomplished it by now. You certainly have complicated my life, Harper."  
  
"And you mine, Lindley."  
  
"You shouldn't have hit him. Why did you do that? That's not the Andrew I know."  
  
"The first time, when I saw you guys at the golf course, you were upset, and all I could think was that he had tried something with you and that you didn't want him to. And that made me so angry, to think he'd hurt you that way. I couldn't help it."  
  
"And last night?"  
  
"Last night I was just crazy jealous. That's the most simple and honest answer I can give you. I have never felt like that before in my entire life. It was awful. I didn't even feel like myself. To see you there with him, kissing him, his hands on you. . ."  
  
Silence descended. Amy didn't know what to say. Andrew was trying to tell her in his own way something that would change everything between them, probably forever. All she could do was wait for him to lay it out there in front of her, this gigantic THING that she would not be able to ignore or pretend not to see, and it would change their friendship from that point on. She was suddenly terrified of what he was going to say next.  
  
"I think you need to know something that I've been trying to keep from you for a while now," he said, and here it was. Amy closed her eyes fearfully. "I haven't known how to tell you. I didn't know how you'd react. I still don't, but I realize now that I owe it to you to tell you and let you make up your own mind how you feel about it." He was speaking very fast.  
  
"But what if I know what you're going to say and I'd rather not hear it?" she asked suddenly, surprising both of them.  
  
Andrew paused, studying her face. "Is that how you feel?"  
  
"Yes! Maybe. I don't know. This is just so hard, Andy! You are about to put me in the most horrible position I've ever been in, and no, I don't really want to be in that place."  
  
Andrew looked at her, hurt obvious in his eyes. "Well," he said. "I guess now we know how that would play out. Glad we dodged that bullet."  
  
"Don't be like that. I didn't mean it that way."  
  
"There aren't too many ways to tell me that you're not interested, Aim. I'm guessing you didn't give Benny boy the same speech, though."  
  
"Andrew, you know nothing about that situation, so please don't make assumptions that are just going to make me angry again." She felt panic rising as he got up and started to walk away from her. "Is there some conspiracy in this town to make me miserable?" she called out, half- laughing in disbelief that things had turned bad so suddenly. "Because all of you are doing a bang-up job of it! Why are you leaving? We need to talk this out, Andy, I'm sorry it came out that way. Please don't leave this unfinished!"  
  
She limped as quickly as she could after him and seized his arm. He pulled out of her grasp and turned on her. "It's not unfinished. You told me everything I needed to know. I hope you and Ben will be very happy together." With that, he started away again, and she just watched him go, her heart actually aching in her chest.  
  
For the second day in a row, Amy spent a good portion of it holed up in her room. She couldn't believe that just two days ago, her biggest problem had been that her dad wouldn't let her go on some stupid ski trip with her friends. Now it seemed she HAD no friends. So much had happened over the weekend that she felt dizzy and sick to her stomach thinking about it. She avoided a phone call from Jessie that afternoon because she couldn't bear to recap the most recent events in her roller coaster existence.  
  
Jack came to check on her around dinnertime. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, looking at her somberly. "Are you going to come down and eat?"  
  
"I'm not hungry," she said.  
  
"Ahh, well then let me rephrase. Come down and eat with us, Amy. You've been in here all day."  
  
"Trust me, it's better that way."  
  
"Doug told me that you apologized for last night. I'm glad. He's been really hurt by your attitude toward him lately."  
  
"Hurt, huh? He has a strange way of showing it."  
  
"Yeah, he does. He gets angry when he's hurting. Doesn't it sound kind of like someone else we know?" Jack gave her a pointed look. "So what do you say? Come down to dinner. We're having your favorite."  
  
She frowned at him. "I'll come, but I won't be making conversation. Every time I open my mouth, someone gets mad at me. I can't take another fight tonight."  
  
"Point taken. See you downstairs."  
  
Amy was true to her word; she didn't speak during dinner except when a question was addressed directly to her. Jack and Doug respected her solemnity for the most part and kept the conversation neutral. Until, that is, Jack asked her if she was ready for the Lit test he was giving tomorrow. She choked on her tea.  
  
"There's a test tomorrow?" she asked, wiping her dripping chin with a napkin.  
  
"Uh, yeah. I've only mentioned it every day in class for the last two weeks. Tell me you're joking."  
  
"No, I'm not joking! I forgot. What's it on?"  
  
"Amy!"  
  
"Seriously, Dad, I don't remember."  
  
"Well, you'd better call someone and find out. I'm not giving you any extra help. What is it with you and school lately? You used to be a straight-A student."  
  
"I stopped being such a nerd," she snapped, now angry at his refusal to tell her what the stupid test was on, and for giving one in the first place right after what was unarguably the worst weekend of her entire life. "Can't you postpone this test?"  
  
"Because my daughter forgot to study for it? The school board would look really favorably on that kind of special treatment, wouldn't they? Forget it; just go upstairs and start studying."  
  
"I don't know WHAT to study!" she shouted in helpless frustration.  
  
"Well then I guess you'll flunk. I can't help you."  
  
"For God's sake!!" Amy threw her fork down and stood up, hating herself for this spoiled-brat display but unable get a handle on her emotions. "Why the hell does everyone on this whole freaking planet have it in for me these days?"  
  
Jack and Doug were both just staring at her. In her frustration, their calmness infuriated her further. "What you're doing right now is bordering on a tantrum, Amy," Jack said slowly. "I'm not really in the mood for it, so why don't you excuse yourself. Go find out what to study and get started. Or don't. It's up to you."  
  
"Screw you," she muttered on her way out of the kitchen.  
  
"What did you say?" Doug demanded, his chair scraping on the floor as he pushed back from the table to come after her.  
  
"Let her go," she heard Jack tell him quietly. 


	13. Chapter 13

Amy walked straight out the front door, knowing that she had to get away from the house and her dads before the fight escalated and she said something she couldn't take back. Unbelievable was the only word to describe this day. It seemed that it would never end. In the very recent past, she would have run to Andrew, but that was out of the question now, of course. And she still wanted to steer clear of Jessie and her well- meaning but unwanted sympathy for a while. In fact, it occurred to her, the only person she really wanted to see at the moment was Ben. But she knew he wouldn't want to see her after their talk that morning.  
  
Still, she found herself heading toward his house. It was slow-going on her bad foot, but she was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed the discomfort. Nor did she notice at first when a car pulled up alongside her on the road.  
  
"Can I give you a lift?"  
  
She almost screamed before she saw that it was Ben. He was smiling at her from behind the wheel of his car.  
  
"You scared the hell out of me!" she scolded.  
  
"Where are you headed?" he asked. "Because it seems to me that you're a woman on a mission." The teasing tone of his voice told her that he had a pretty good idea of where she was headed.  
  
"I don't know," she said. "I just had to get out of the house. My dads are driving me crazy. Plus Andy. . . and you. . . I don't know how much more I can take."  
  
"Come on, get in," he said. "I'll take you away from it all."  
  
Amy smiled in spite of her mood and walked around the car to climb into the passenger's seat. "Thank you," she said. "It was going to take me all night to get there at the rate I was going."  
  
"And where did you say you were trying to go?" he asked, teasing again.  
  
"Shut up, Ben."  
  
He winked at her as they pulled away from the curb. "How about we go down to the beach? Take a walk? Or, we can just sit there," he revised, nodding toward her bandaged ankle. "You can vent to me all you like."  
  
"That sounds good," she said. "I love the beach at night."  
  
It was chilly by the water, and Ben took off his jacket and slung it around Amy's shoulders. They sat on two beach chairs that had been left on the shore as if waiting for them to come along. Amy found herself too exhausted to give him all the gory details of her day. She was content to just sit there next to him and listen to the ocean. It was soothing somehow; it made her feel that her problems weren't as bad as they had seemed. Not catastrophic, at least. Ben was quiet for a long time too, and she was grateful that he didn't try to pick up their conversation from that morning. When Amy spoke, it wasn't the traumatic events of the weekend that her thoughts settled on.  
  
"My mom wanted me to spend lots of time at the ocean," she said. Ben looked at her, waiting for her to go on. "When she died, she left me this videotape of all the things she wished for my life. That was one of them. She said the ocean forces you to dream. I think she was right. I always feel better here, anyway."  
  
"I do, too. Your mom was a smart lady."  
  
Amy nodded. "I don't think I'm very much like her. My dad has always told me I am, and Uncle Pacey and Aunt Joey say so too. So did my grams, when she was alive. But I think she was a lot more together than I am. She was so mature by the time she was fifteen." She sighed. "Dad says that's because of growing up in New York with parents who weren't really involved. By the time she moved here, she was used to taking care of herself. I wish I wasn't so sheltered. I feel like I've never seen anything outside of Capeside, and sometimes it seems like I never will."  
  
"I know that feeling," Ben said quietly. "But you will. You're not destined to live out your whole life in this place. Not you."  
  
"I hope not. I hope someday I'll be strong enough to leave. Joey said that there was a time she wanted nothing more than to get out of this town. She did it, too; she went to Boston for college, then moved to New York for a while. She lived. And then she came back here. Back home, she says. Capeside was always home to her, even when she was living her dream in the big city."  
  
"Maybe that's how we'll feel one day."  
  
"Maybe." Amy stared out at the black waves. "Ben, I wish this could be easier."  
  
"That makes two of us," he said immediately, as if he had known all along she was coming around to this topic.  
  
"I wish I could tell you that it doesn't matter what Andrew thinks about us. Because I think you know what I want, but what I want is not the bottom line."  
  
"It should be. You know that, don't you? Nothing else should matter. It's not selfish of you to go after what you want. It's selfish of him not to let you. And it's not right that he has the power to stop you."  
  
"I know that. But I can't live with myself if I break his heart. For so long, he was my world. He's always been there, one of the few constants in my life, and I think I owe him. . ."  
  
"What do you owe him, Amy, your happiness? That's not fair to you. He shouldn't want that for you, if he really cares about you."  
  
"He tried to tell me today. He started to tell me how he feels, and I stopped him. I told him I didn't want to hear it. He said--he said he hoped we'd be very happy together."  
  
Ben looked at her. "Well, we can arrange that for him."  
  
Amy reached over and took Ben's hand. "I'm a horrible person. I feel like kissing you right now."  
  
"What's stopping you?"  
  
"The fact that I still don't know what I want. Why am I doing this to you? I tell you one thing and then I do another. I keep everyone I know in a constant state of confusion. And I'm the most confused of all." She leaned back in the beach chair and looked up at the stars. Doing that always made her feel very small and insignificant. She took a deep, shuddery breath.  
  
Next thing she knew, Ben had moved over to kneel beside her chair, and he was brushing her hair aside, his face very close, his eyes penetrating hers. "I'm going to try this one more time," he said. "I'm going to kiss you, and you can stop me anytime you want to. But if you do stop me, I want you to make sure you're doing it for yourself, not for Andrew or anyone else. He has no part of this."  
  
Amy started to protest but couldn't quite bring herself to do so. Instead, she leaned in, and their lips came together, and she didn't spare a thought for Andrew this time. She felt herself letting go of her worry and her anger and her confusion and just reveling in the simple enjoyment of this moment with this boy. Guilt could come later; she didn't really care. This felt good. This felt right.  
  
At long last, Ben moved away from her, still kneeling in the sand next to her chair. His green eyes were probing, direct. "You didn't stop me," he said.  
  
"No, I didn't, did I?" she agreed, somewhat breathlessly.  
  
"And the world didn't stop turning."  
  
Smiling slightly, she moved in to kiss him again. "Speak for yourself," she murmured. 


	14. Chapter 14

When Ben dropped Amy off in front of her house, she was feeling lighter than she had all weekend. She was even smiling to herself as she walked up the porch steps and slipped through the front door as quietly as possible. She almost collided with Jack, who was heading for the door, pulling a jacket on over his T-shirt.  
  
"Hi," she said, slightly sheepishly.  
  
"Thank God. I was just going to look for you. You've been gone for hours."  
  
"I know. Sorry."  
  
"I'm sure you are," he said exasperatedly, removing the jacket and slinging it across the back of the couch. "You're always sorry. I hate worrying about you, Amy."  
  
"I know, Dad. I really am sorry. I lost track of time." A small smile crossed her lips.  
  
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, noticing the change in her demeanor. "Hmm. You seem to feel better. Can I ask why?"  
  
"No reason," she said airily. "I'm going to bed now." On impulse, she threw her arms around her dad and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
He watched her go upstairs, confused as he often was these days by his daughter. Doug walked in from the kitchen. "Did I hear Amy?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, she's back. And in a good mood."  
  
"Really? I wonder why."  
  
"Unfortunately, it probably has something to do with that Chambers kid," Jack said.  
  
Doug sniffed. "That kid better watch his step, that's all I have to say," he said gruffly. Jack silently agreed.  
  
Andy wasn't in their group's usual meeting spot before school the next day. While Amy wasn't surprised, she couldn't help being a little hurt. She had been feeling so good since coming home last night that she had hoped somehow the situation might have healed itself overnight. She was at her locker getting out the books she needed for her first class when Jessie accosted her.  
  
"Where WERE you all weekend? I tried to call you five times; you never called me back! What's up?" she demanded.  
  
"If you have a few hours to spare, I'll fill you in," Amy said. Her eyes slipped past Jessie then and fixed on Ben, who was coming down the hall toward them, smiling, his backpack slung over one shoulder. That smile was contagious. She smiled back, almost shyly.  
  
Jessie followed her gaze. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "Something happened with you and Ben! I'm right, aren't I? Amy, you hooked up with Ben, didn't you?"  
  
"Shh, please keep your voice down," Amy said irritably, glancing around the crowded hallway, only half-aware that she was checking to make sure Andrew wasn't within earshot.  
  
"Good morning, ladies," Ben said when he reached them, his eyes not leaving Amy. "Was everything all right with your dads when you got home?"  
  
"Yeah, we're good now," she said. "Thanks."  
  
Jessie made an exasperated sound. "Excuse me? Can someone please not leave me in the dark here?" she said in a high-pitched voice. "Are you guys -- or are you NOT -- an ITEM?"  
  
Ben and Amy both burst out laughing at her choice of words. They were still laughing when Amy looked up and caught sight of Andrew. Their eyes locked for just a moment, his cold and angry, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. The smile died on Amy's face. Ben had noticed the exchange. He leaned down toward Amy.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.  
  
Amy nodded, a silent lie.  
  
Jessie, completely at a loss, stood there watching her friends and wondering how their whole little world could have shifted so much in the span of two days. And why no one had bothered to tell her about it.  
  
Amy had Jack's English class third period, and it was the only one she had with Andrew. They always sat next to each other in the back corner by the window. When she walked into the classroom that day, her heart was pounding a little harder than it should have been in anticipation of seeing him. He wasn't there yet, so she took her usual seat and waited, her eyes glued to the door as students trickled in from the hall.  
  
He came in right before the bell rang, and Amy sat up straighter in her chair, willing him to come to the back of the room, to sit next to her. He didn't even spare a glance in her direction. He took a seat at the front corner by the door, as far away from her as physically possible. Amy slumped down again, feeling as if she had been kicked in the stomach.  
  
Jack handed out the dreaded test. Of course, it was on The Canterbury Tales. Amy noted this with some relief, since she did know a little about the book from class lectures the last two weeks. She had not read the book per se, but sometimes she could wing it.  
  
Apparently this was not one of those times. When the bell rang and the papers were collected, Amy had answered only four of the twenty-five questions to her satisfaction. Handing her test paper to her dad, she thought about the fact that now she'd probably get lectured for flunking. It sucked to live with the teacher.  
  
"Amy, hold on a second," Jack said as she started out the door.  
  
"What?" she asked, letting the other students file out around her. "I've got to go."  
  
"I know. Is everything OK?"  
  
"Oh, just great. Why?"  
  
"Well, Andrew . . ."  
  
"Yeah, well, what can I do?" she said, struggling to keep her voice neutral. "I've got to go, Dad," she repeated.  
  
"Sure. See you later."  
  
At lunch, Amy finally got Jessie alone to fill her in on the latest. She listened intently, her round eyes growing wider and wider as Amy spoke. She didn't say anything until the story was over.  
  
"So what's next?" she asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, are you going to try to patch things up with him?"  
  
Amy glanced over toward the table where Andy sat with two guys she hardly knew. He was talking and laughing with them as though everything was perfectly normal. It hurt her a little to see that, although she knew better. She knew he was feeling just as bad about the bitterness between them as she was. Probably worse.  
  
"I'm going to try," she told Jessie. "I have to try, but I don't think he's up to it just yet."  
  
"That's not a cop-out, is it? Not just prolonging the inevitable?"  
  
"No. I have to figure out how to approach him first."  
  
Ben joined them then, and Amy forced a smile and a change of subject. She failed to notice that Andrew kept throwing looks their way. Ben noticed, but didn't say anything. Once, Ben caught Andrew's glance and a look of such coldness passed between them that Ben understood right then that their friendship might well be unsalvageable. He was glad Amy was talking to Jessie at that moment and missed it. 


	15. Chapter 15

Several weeks passed, and Andrew made no effort to contact Amy or even speak to her. When she was with Ben, she tried to pretend that it didn't bother her, but nothing could have been further from the truth. It was killing her. She glimpsed him in the halls at school but he avoided making eye contact, and he continued to sit as far away from her as possible in Jack's English class.  
  
Several days after their last interaction, Amy had tried to call him. His mom, Linda, answered the phone.  
  
"Hello sweetheart," Linda said when Amy greeted her somewhat timidly. "I'm afraid you've just missed Andy."  
  
Of course I did, Amy thought as she hung up.  
  
It was a Friday a full month after the weekend from hell. Amy and Ben were sitting in a booth at Pacey's restaurant, the Icehouse, and she was picking at her salad but not really eating. Ben looked at her over the rim of his water glass.  
  
"So Amy," he said, the cheerful tone of his voice sounding somewhat forced. "Where are you?"  
  
She looked up from her plate and met his eyes. "What?"  
  
"You're not here with me tonight, so I'm just curious. Where are you?"  
  
"I'm here," she said innocently. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"You haven't said a word since the drive over," he said. "And for you, not speaking speaks volumes. So spill it. What's on your mind?"  
  
"I guess I'm just tired," she said lamely, unwilling to admit the truth. They had passed Andrew in the car on the way to the restaurant. He had been standing on the street corner outside the supermarket, talking and laughing with someone. A girl. Unexpectedly, Amy had felt a pang of hot jealousy. Of course she wasn't about to tell Ben that, but now she couldn't shake the slightly nauseous feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach.  
  
Ben smirked at her response. "I'm sure that's all it is," he said under his breath.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" she asked, her brow furrowing in irritation. "I'm so sorry to have forgotten that I'm obligated to engage in stimulating banter with you twenty-four seven. I dropped the ball."  
  
"Hey, whoa there. Don't do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Don't pick a fight with me for no reason. You've been so on edge lately; I don't even know how to talk to you. I've been walking on eggshells for days."  
  
Amy didn't answer. She knew he was right about that, and she felt guilty. But it seemed that every time she looked at him lately she was reminded of things she didn't want to remember. Of Andy's face when she told him she didn't want to hear what he had to tell her. Of his eyes when she had stepped in front of Ben that night and told him to go home. These thoughts were coming between her and Ben, there was no denying that.  
  
She went back to picking at her salad, and he dropped the issue. Several minutes of silence later, a hand landed on top of Amy's head, ruffling her hair. She looked up to see Pacey standing there. "Should I be offended that you're not eating that?" he asked, nodding toward her almost-full salad plate. "Do I need to fire the kitchen staff?"  
  
Amy smiled. "No, it's fine, Uncle Pacey. I'm just not hungry."  
  
"I guess I'll accept that," he said. "You guys need anything?"  
  
"How about something from the bar?" Ben asked hopefully.  
  
Pacey eyed him critically. "Did you drive here with my niece?" he asked.  
  
"Yes sir," Ben said.  
  
"Then hell no. See you later, kiddo," Pacey said, and went off to charm other patrons.  
  
Ben looked at Amy. "So am I driving you home right away, then?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know. Do you want to?"  
  
"No, I don't want to. But I think you want me to."  
  
"Dammit, Ben. I'm sick of doing this," Amy said, her voice weary.  
  
"Well, that makes two of us."  
  
"Then stop starting it. I'm tired of being dragged into these endless -- " Amy broke off with a sharp intake of breath. Andrew had just walked in and was being led to a table by a hostess. He had his arm around the shoulders of the girl she had seen him with outside the supermarket. Amy gaped at them, her mouth open.  
  
Ben turned in his seat to see what Amy was staring at. When he turned back around, his expression was unreadable. He looked at Amy searchingly. She was fumbling for her purse on the seat next to her.  
  
"Let's go, Ben," she said. "Let's go; you're done eating, right? Pacey told the waitress not to charge us, so we can leave." Her voice was shaking slightly, and her attempt to sound casual was failing miserably.  
  
She found her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder, grabbed her jacket, got up, and walked a couple of steps before realizing that Ben was still just sitting there. "Aren't you ready?" she asked.  
  
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Why are you running away, Amy?" he asked. "Can you answer me that? Why do you feel the need to run from him?"  
  
"Ben, I want to leave now. Please?" she said desperately. He didn't move, just sat there with his hands covering his face. "Fine, stay if you want; I've got to go." She walked quickly toward the door. She had to pass his table on the way out, and she stared straight ahead so that she wouldn't have to look at them.  
  
Andrew, however, turned his head and watched her go. She was crying. He felt the now-familiar lead weight drop into his chest and had to force himself to turn back to Katie, his date. She glanced curiously at the departing blond girl.  
  
"I wonder what's wrong with her," she said. Then, noting Andrew's concerned expression, she added, "You know her?"  
  
"Yeah, she's an old friend," he said. He couldn't help noticing that Ben was still sitting alone in their booth. On impulse, he took his coat off the back of the chair and looked apologetically at Katie. "Would you mind if I, um, went to check on her for just a second?" he asked. "I just . . . it looked like she was pretty upset, and I uh . . ."  
  
"No, please, go ahead," Katie said graciously. "I understand."  
  
Ben looked around just in time to see Andrew struggling into his coat as he walked toward the exit his girlfriend had just departed from. He cursed to himself.  
  
"Amy! Amy, wait up."  
  
She heard his voice and froze dead in her tracks, wiping furiously at her eyes before turning to face him. He jogged to catch up with her. Then they stood facing each other, neither of them sure what to say.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked at last, his breath coming out in frosty clouds. "I mean. . . I saw Ben in there, and you left in such a hurry, and . . . Are you?"  
  
"Nothing's all right," she answered. "Who's the girl?"  
  
He was taken aback by her forwardness. "Her name's Katie. She's a cousin of a friend. Michael."  
  
"Oh yeah, that guy you sit with at lunch," Amy said. Andy nodded slowly, trying desperately to read her eyes, but she wasn't looking at him.  
  
"It's our first date," he said, as if in explanation.  
  
"That's nice. She's pretty."  
  
"Amy . . . what are you upset about?" Andrew was floored. He had assumed that Amy and Ben had had a fight back in the restaurant. Now it looked almost as if . . . "Is this because I'm with another girl?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Amy said, her voice breaking. "I have no right to be upset about that, do I? I don't have any rights when it comes to you. I've got to go." She turned away and started to walk down the ramp that led from the restaurant's patio area to the beach. Andrew caught her arm and turned her around. She stared fixedly at her feet.  
  
"Amy, look at me."  
  
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his. "What?"  
  
"Are you JEALOUS?" he asked. "Is that what's wrong with you right now?"  
  
"YES, okay? Does that make you feel better? I don't know why, but when I saw you with that girl, I just couldn't stand it. I know it's wrong and I KNOW I have no right, but I can't help it, Andy!"  
  
"What does this mean?"  
  
"Don't ask me what it means! I don't know what it means!" Amy was almost yelling now, tears spilling down her cheeks and leaving behind cold wet streaks. "All I know is that I have a boyfriend who is wonderful and sweet and caring, and ever since we got together I've felt nothing but guilt over what I did to you and regret that things didn't happen differently. I should be happy, but I've been holding back with him because so much of my heart is wrapped up in you. So what does it mean? How the hell should I know?"  
  
They stood there, Andrew staring at Amy, who was staring at her feet again. A throat cleared behind them, and they both looked up.  
  
"Well isn't this nice?" Ben said. His voice was booming with false good cheer, but his expression was hard, his green eyes fixed on Amy. "I guess you'd say the tables have turned, huh? But don't worry, Andy, I'm not going to fight you. I think this time it would be pointless. I mean, hey, the lady knows what she wants. Oh, you can give her a ride home, can't you, man? I'm going to head on, myself." He started backing toward the parking lot, jingling his car keys in his hand.  
  
Amy started forward. "Wait, Ben. Wait a second." He just picked up the pace. She turned to look at Andy. "Go back to your date."  
  
"But Amy, we have to. . ."  
  
"She's waiting for you. I've got to go after him, Andy, I'm sorry."  
  
He stood there and watched her run across the parking lot toward her boyfriend. He saw her catch up with him and grab his arm; he saw Ben jerk roughly out of her grip and turn on her, saying something Andrew couldn't quite catch from this distance. "Don't you hurt her, Chambers," he muttered to himself. "Don't you dare." At last, Andrew pried his gaze away from the two figures in the parking lot and went back into the restaurant, where his date was waiting for him. 


	16. Chapter 16

When Amy caught up to Ben in the parking lot, he was already opening the driver's side door of his car.  
  
"Will you wait a minute, please?" she demanded, grabbing his arm.  
  
He pulled away from her forcefully, and she took a reflexive step back and stared at him in surprise, seeing for the first time just how angry he was. "I don't have anything to say to you right now," he said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Well I do. Okay, Ben, everything you just overheard is true. I'll admit that. I know I should have told you all this stuff one-on-one, but I guess I was just hoping it would go away. I'm not saying I have feelings for him. I'm saying I can't keep pretending everything is fine when I feel as low as I have the last few weeks."  
  
"Do you think I haven't noticed that everything's not fine? I tried to overlook it at first because I know how hard it was for you to leave things the way you did. But it's been a month, and you're still miserable. You're still lamenting the fact that you chose me, and you said as much to Andrew not five minutes ago. Let's face it, Amy, I'm never going to be enough for you."  
  
"That's not true. You are enough."  
  
"Then how come he's all you think about when we're together?"  
  
She paused, wanting to tread lightly in this territory. "He's not all I think about," she began carefully. "It's just been so hard to get him out of my mind because of how much I hurt him. When I'm with you, it reminds me of that, of how much we both hurt him."  
  
Ben nodded. "Well, there it is. I think that's all you needed to say. Because that's not going to change, Amy. He's not going to just snap out of it one day and say, 'You know, I sure am glad those crazy kids got together.' Everything's not going to just suddenly click into place. He won't be happy until he has you, and you won't be happy until he's happy. So there's your answer."  
  
Amy didn't meet his eyes as she said, "That's not what I want."  
  
"Didn't you tell me once that what you want is not the bottom line?" Ben said. "Well, maybe it doesn't matter what you think you want. Maybe things are going to play out however they're going to play out, and you really don't have that much control to begin with."  
  
"What do you want me to do?" she asked pleadingly.  
  
"No, no, it's not that easy. You're on your own here. I care about you, Amy. I . . . I think I might be falling in love with you. That puts me in a hell of a tough spot. I think what I have to do is back off." Amy opened her mouth to protest, but he held his hand up, stopping her. "I'm going to back off and give you time to think about what you want. Because there's a reason you reacted like a jealous girlfriend when you saw him with another girl. No matter what you may think, Amy, there's a real reason behind that, and I'm not about to pretend I didn't notice or let you pretend that's not what happened. Let's just stop this now before it gets any worse. Get in the car, and I'll take you home. And when you figure things out once and for all, maybe you'll be so kind as to clue me in?" His voice cracked on the last few words, and he took in a deep, shuddery breath.  
  
She looked at him and saw that all traces of anger had faded from his eyes, replaced by a deep sadness and vulnerability that made her want to cry again. She reached for his hand. "I don't want to lose you," she said softly.  
  
"I know you don't. But you CAN'T lose him." His lips twisted in a bittersweet smile as he repeated her words from just a few short weeks ago. Now Amy did feel tears flood her eyes again, and when he gestured for her to get in the car, she shook her head.  
  
"I'm going to stay here for a while," she said. He nodded and turned away from her. She watched as he drove away without looking back.  
  
Slowly, Amy wandered down to the strip of beach in front of the Icehouse and began to stroll along near the water's edge, fighting tears and trying not to feel too much of anything. She wished that one of them, either one, would just tell her she wasn't worth the effort and to get the hell out of his life. That would make it easy. But this, the way it stood now, was just too hard.  
  
She stayed out there for a long time before heading home. By the time she had walked the mile or so there from the restaurant, she was freezing. She approached the house shivering uncontrollably, and was fumbling with numb hands for her key when she heard Andrew's voice behind her.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, with no pretense.  
  
Amy didn't miss a beat. "He told me he's going to give me time and space to figure out what I want," she said, still facing the door.  
  
"And do you know what that is?"  
  
"In keeping with the rest of my chaotic existence, no, I don't. What about you?"  
  
"You know what I want. You may not want to know, but you do."  
  
Amy turned and looked at him for the first time. "What happened to your date?"  
  
"Oh, I took her home. I've been waiting here for you."  
  
"That was a short date."  
  
Andrew smiled. "That's kind of your fault. My mind wasn't exactly on Katie for most of the evening, and apparently that doesn't score you any points on a first date."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't be." Andrew cleared his throat almost nervously. "Amy, I've missed you."  
  
"Have you? I wondered. You could have done something about it, you know." Amy's voice was carefully neutral.  
  
Andrew laughed bitterly. "Like what? Come to you with my heart in my hands and begged you to leave him for me? You made it pretty clear that day on the pier that you wouldn't be very receptive to that. I couldn't put myself through that by trying again."  
  
"So what are you doing now? Why did you come here?"  
  
"I think we left some business unfinished back at the restaurant. I want to hear the rest."  
  
Amy shook her head. "There is no 'rest,' Andy. I've admitted that I'm jealous of seeing you with other girls. Is that so odd? Since we were in diapers, I've been the only girl in your life. I guess it's only natural that I would feel sort of displaced, seeing you with someone else. Especially when we haven't spoken in so long." She took a deep breath. "I don't think it means anything more than that."  
  
"I'm not so sure," he said. "I think there might be more to it than that."  
  
"Well, if there is, I'm not going to explore it any further tonight," Amy said as gently as she could. "All I want right now is to be alone. Okay?"  
  
Andrew nodded understandingly. "Of course. I just wanted to say I'm sorry the past month was so hard for you. I'm sorry I put you through that."  
  
She didn't know what to say to that, so she just nodded. He started to turn away, and she called his name. "What if," she asked, "after I do some soul- searching or whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing -- what if I come to the conclusion that -- that I want him? What will that do to us?" She hated talking about the situation this way, as if it was some stupid contest and she was the grand prize.  
  
Andrew paused for a few long moments. "That's your decision, Amy," he said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Good night."  
  
Only after he had walked across the lawn and disappeared around the corner did she realize he hadn't answered the question. 


	17. Chapter 17

"Only one thing's for certain in a situation like this. It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt you, and it's going to hurt someone else. I think that knowledge is what made it so hard for me when I was going through it."  
  
Amy looked sideways at Joey as they strolled down Cape Street together toward the car. Their shopping spree, unfortunately, had not had the desired effect. Amy was still depressed, caught up in the emotional turmoil of the two weeks that had passed since the fateful night at the Icehouse. She hadn't spoken to Ben at all, and the few encounters with Andrew she hadn't been able to avoid had been loaded and awkward, a first in their long history together. "That sucks," she said bitterly, unable to find a better word for it.  
  
"It sucks," Joey agreed. "But you'll come out stronger on the other side."  
  
"You did."  
  
"Yeah, I think I did."  
  
"But I'm not you. You were stronger than I am to begin with. I don't think I can do it. Whatever I do, it's going to be the wrong thing. I just want somebody to tell me what to do. Joey, please tell me what to do."  
  
Joey smiled wistfully. "I wish I could. I really do."  
  
"You chose Pacey."  
  
"That's right, I did . . . then, and again much later."  
  
"What did it take for you to walk away from Dawson and get on that boat with Pacey, not knowing how it would be when you got back? Weren't you worried?"  
  
Joey considered. "What did it take? Well, to be honest, it took Dawson telling me to go. That was a pivotal moment in my life. The second I turned away from Dawson and left him standing on that pier, the whole world as I'd known it up to that point changed. And I was so excited to finally be letting go of my past and doing something that I wanted to do for once, not out of guilt but out of desire -- well, that was such a great feeling that I managed to put Dawson out of my head for almost a whole summer."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
Joey's wistful smile returned. "Then we started back to Capeside. It was like the closer we got to home, the heavier my heart felt, the more terrified I became. I was so afraid of seeing him again, of having to deal with the damage I'd done by leaving. I was scared of facing the change that I'd managed to escape by running away with Pacey. Suddenly it was real again."  
  
"Did things ever get back to the way they used to be between you and Dawson?"  
  
After a pause, Joey shook her head. "Not really, no. But maybe they weren't supposed to. People change as they grow up; relationships have to evolve. That can be a scary thought, I know, but it's a fact of life. Regardless of what you choose now, you and Andrew won't be able to keep things the same forever, any more than Dawson and I could have. It happens no matter how much you try to hold on."  
  
"So running away's not the answer."  
  
"Almost never," Joey said. "You're right, Amy, you're not me. Ben's not Pacey, Andrew's not Dawson. Our stories sound very similar, I'll give you that. But only you know what you need to do. All I can tell you is that you should make the decision for yourself, not for them."  
  
"People keep saying that. What would my mom tell me?"  
  
"Exactly the same thing. She would insist that you do what makes you happy," Joey assured her. She smiled, remembering her old friend. "That's all Jen ever wanted for any of us."  
  
They had almost reached the car when Jessie came running up behind them, panting, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "Hey, Aim, glad I caught you. There's a party tonight at Kevin Mallory's. You've got to come with me."  
  
Amy hesitated. "I don't know if I'm really up to a party right now, Jess. I --"  
  
"You have to!" Jessie insisted. She looked to Joey for help. "Tell her she has to get out of the house before she dries up. She's fifteen going on eighty! Tell her!"  
  
Joey laughed. "I'm staying out of this one," she said, walking around the curb to open the driver's side door.  
  
"Please, Amy. I won't go if you don't go, and I really want to go, so please, do this for me? This one thing. I'll never ask you for another favor again, ever!" Jessie squeezed her friend's hands pleadingly as she begged.  
  
Amy sighed and shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling. "I'll go. But I'm leaving if I'm not having a good time. And, just so you know, I don't plan on having a good time." She extracted her hands from Jessie's and got into Joey's car.  
  
Later that night, Amy was getting ready to leave when Jack knocked on the door and came into her room. "Hi kiddo," he said, sitting on the bed behind Amy, who was putting on makeup in her vanity mirror. "You going out?"  
  
"Yeah, there's some stupid party Jessie wants me to go to."  
  
"I'm glad to see you doing something on a Saturday night besides hanging out here with Dougie and me. Wow, I can't believe I'm saying that. But it must mean you're feeling better, huh?"  
  
"No, it just means that I have an exceptionally persuasive friend who's determined to drag me out of myself when I'd rather waste away in isolation."  
  
"Good for her. Maybe she can accomplish what the rest of us have failed at."  
  
Amy rolled her eyes. "So let's have it," she said, eyeing him in the mirror as she puckered her lips to apply more gloss.  
  
"Have what?"  
  
"The lecture. The 'don't do anything you wouldn't do with me right beside you' lecture. You're just itching to enlighten me with your paternal wisdom and admonishments, aren't you?"  
  
Jack smiled at his daughter. "You're something else, you know that?"  
  
"I learned from the best."  
  
"Damn straight you did. Okay, then, since you asked for it, no drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no sex."  
  
"No fun."  
  
"Ha ha. Do we agree on all these points?"  
  
"As for the drinking, I'll do my best. Cigarette smoke makes me sick, so don't worry about that. Drugs, nah, you can't get anything good in Capeside . . ."  
  
"Amy Lindley."  
  
"No drugs. And as for the sex . . . My estranged boyfriend and my infatuated best friend won't be at this party, and I'm not really looking to add anyone else to my tangled web at this juncture in my life, so you can breathe easy on that one, too."  
  
"And you'll call me or Dougie to come pick you up if you need us to."  
  
Amy cringed. "I'd probably call Pacey or Joey before I called you guys. No offense, Dad, but it's incredibly uncool to have the town sheriff and the high school English teacher show up in the middle of a kick-ass party."  
  
"Well, Pacey or Joey then. Someone responsible."  
  
"That cuts out the majority of you," Amy said, smirking. A car horn sounded outside. "There's Jess. I've got to go." She leaned down to give Jack a quick hug as she grabbed her purse and headed for the stairs.  
  
"Back by curfew!" he called after her as she slammed the front door.  
  
Kevin Mallory's house was huge, and his parents were out of town. By the time Jessie and Amy pulled up in front, the big wraparound driveway was full of cars and there were people spilling over from inside out onto the front porch.  
  
"Before we go in, do you remember what I told you? If I'm as miserable at this party as I think I'm going to be, I'm out of here. Got it?" Amy reminded her friend.  
  
Jessie was already out of the car. "Fine, you party pooper," she called. "Just come on."  
  
Amy sighed and unfastened her seatbelt. She slammed the car door and started off after Jessie. They greeted several people they knew who were hanging out on the front porch, then worked their way inside to join the mob gathered there. Jessie was almost immediately swallowed up by the crowd, and Amy let her go and wandered into the kitchen, which was also packed. A big plastic trashcan was filled with cans of Coke floating in ice water. She reached for one, and someone caught her hand. She looked up to see Andrew smiling at her.  
  
"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked teasingly, almost yelling over the thumping music and tangled voices.  
  
With an effort, Amy smiled back at him. "I was taken against my will," she said, nodding in the direction of Jessie, who had reappeared in the adjoining living room, surrounded as usual by a gaggle of admiring boys. "She seemed to think it imperative for me to join her in a raucous night of teen abandon. I'm pretty sure she just wanted to watch me suffer."  
  
"Mission accomplished?" he asked, looking at her closely and not failing to notice that she seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes.  
  
"Well, we just got here. There's time enough for misery," she quipped. "You know, I'm not really in a soda sort of mood right now. Where's the real stuff?"  
  
Andrew pointed behind her to a card table on which there was a gigantic cooler filled with red Kool-Aid-looking liquid. She grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with the punch. One sip told her how potent the stuff was; she felt it burning all the way down. With a slight pang, she remembered telling her dad she would try her best not to drink. Then again, she hadn't expected to have to deal with Andrew or Ben tonight. This party was supposed to be an escape, and yet it looked as though her problem was determined to follow her around town.  
  
As if on cue, Amy looked up then and saw Ben. He was standing next to Jessie, asking her something. Jessie nodded and looked around, apparently scanning the crowd for someone. Amy didn't want to be spotted. Leaving Andrew standing there, she slipped around a group of kitchen loiterers and toward the door that led outside, taking care to stay out of Ben and Jessie's line of sight. 


	18. Chapter 18

The pool area was almost as crowded as the rest of the house even though the temperature wasn't exactly water-friendly. A large, noisy group of people was gathered around three of Capeside High's best football players, cheering them on in a beer-chugging contest. Amy wandered in the other direction and took a giant gulp out of the cup she was holding, wondering how she could break it to Jessie that she was leaving five minutes after they'd gotten there. She didn't have to wonder long. Jessie's voice was calling her name.  
  
She spotted Amy and came over to her. "Don't kill me, okay? Ben's here," she said. "He's looking for you. I thought I should warn you."  
  
"I saw him. Andy too," Amy said. "Jess, I think I really need to go. I'm not ready for this. I didn't want to deal with them tonight."  
  
"I know, I didn't think they'd come. I'm sorry, Aim. Do you want me to drive you home?"  
  
"No, no, you stay. I can walk. I'd rather --"  
  
"There you are. Why'd you sneak out like that?" Andrew asked, coming over to them, a look of concern clouding his blue eyes.  
  
Amy groaned softly, and Jessie shot her a sympathetic glance before stepping away, back toward the house. "I'll be inside if you need me," she said somewhat apologetically.  
  
Andrew glanced curiously at Jessie, then back at Amy. "What's that about? Are you all right?"  
  
Amy smiled bitterly. "Since you always know when I'm lying, I guess it won't hurt to tell you no. I'm not."  
  
"So what is it?"  
  
"You really don't know? It's not obvious?"  
  
Andrew's brows furrowed the way they always did when he was irritated. "Hey, look, all I know is that for the whole two weeks since we started talking again you've been avoiding me like the plague. I thought it was because you were trying to deal with the aftermath of your breakup, and I understood that and tried to give you your space. But now I'm beginning to wonder if it's just me. Is it me, Amy?"  
  
"Yes!" she said loudly, surprising both of them. She looked away from him and took another huge gulp of her punch, as if to brace herself. Her next words were angry, forceful, and she felt as if someone else were speaking them. "It's you, it's him, it's me. It's this whole screwed-up triangle we've created. It's just too damn much to handle. But what do you care, anyway? You got what you wanted, right? I'm backed into a corner, congratulations. And you'll have to forgive me for not wanting to drop to my knees and thank you for doing that to me."  
  
They stood there staring at each other for what seemed like a long time, the shouts and cheers of the beer-chuggers' audience forming a weird, discordant background to their silence. Finally, Andrew seemed to shake himself out of a trance. He pursed his lips, swallowed hard, and nodded, stepping away from Amy.  
  
"Well. I'm glad you got that out of your system," he said, his casual voice belying the hurt in his eyes. "If that's the way you feel, then I guess I do owe you an apology. I wasn't trying to back you into a corner. I never wanted to force anything on you, least of all myself. Sorry about that, Amy."  
  
He turned away from her and walked back toward the house, and Amy was suddenly overwhelmingly sorry for her hurtful outburst. Why was she always doing this to people she loved? "Andrew, wait!" she said, running after him. She was rather surprised when he actually did wait, turning around to face her as she caught up to him. "I'm an idiot," she said. "It's not your fault; I know you didn't do it on purpose."  
  
"Do what on purpose?"  
  
She hesitated to say it out loud. Taking a deep breath, she managed, "Fall for me."  
  
"You're right. I wouldn't have chosen this. It hasn't been easy for me either, watching you struggle with this decision and knowing that if you did choose me, it might not be for the right reason. I would probably never be able to get past that, you know, the fact that you might have picked me just to hang on to US. Not because you wanted me more than Ben. So maybe it's better for all of us if you just go with your first choice. You picked Ben before I even became a factor."  
  
There was another silence, during which Amy drained her cup of punch and looked up at Andrew with tears shining in her eyes. Then, without any forethought whatsoever, she did it. She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. Her plastic cup fell to the ground with a faint echoing click, and then her arms were around his neck and she was pressing her mouth firmly against his, her lips opening slightly. Slowly, he put his hands on her lower back and hugged her to him, returning the kiss. Moments later, opening her eyes and pulling back, Amy happened to glance up toward the house. Ben was standing there just inside the French doors, staring out at them. Their eyes locked briefly, and then he turned away and was lost in the crowd of people inside.  
  
Amy squeezed her eyes shut tight for a second. The punch had gone straight to her head, and she couldn't quite think straight. Thoughts swirled randomly through her head. Should she go after him? Could she leave Andy standing here wondering why she kept running away from him? What had made her kiss him? Why was her timing always so perfectly catastrophic?  
  
"Wow," Andrew breathed, and she looked up to see him staring at her with a look of such pure surprise and elation that she almost forgot about Ben for a moment.  
  
"Andy, I . . ."  
  
"No, don't talk about it, Amy," he said huskily. "Don't. We do that, we talk things to death. That's always been one of our biggest problems. Sometimes we should just let things happen and not talk all the meaning and importance out of them."  
  
Amy took a deep, shuddery breath. "But I'm still not . . . I don't want to give you the wrong . . ."  
  
"Listen, if I do have the wrong idea about this, then I could drop dead right now and go out happy," he said. "But I don't think I do. I don't even think you believe that." When she opened her mouth to speak again, he smiled faintly down at her. "Why don't you know when to shut up?" he asked gently, and he put his hands under her chin and lifted her face up to his, kissing her softly. She let it happen, her mind still running a mile a minute: Here she was, kissing Andy of all people, her lifelong best friend, and Ben had seen this, Ben had seen them kissing, what must he think, what was she doing, and why?. . .  
  
"This feels strange," Amy said quietly when they parted. "I never thought I'd know what it felt like to kiss Andrew Harper."  
  
Andrew nodded. "And you have no idea how long I've waited to know what it feels like to kiss Amy Lindley. But it's strange in a good way, right?" he asked tentatively.  
  
Amy smiled in spite of her confusion and rampaging emotions. "Yes. That much I can tell you. It's good."  
  
"Then why do you look so upset?" he asked after a long pause.  
  
She considered lying to him, brushing it off as nothing. But when she opened her mouth to speak, she found she couldn't do that. "Ben saw us," she said simply. "He saw us kissing."  
  
Andrew's lips thinned, and he looked like he was about to say something but then thought better of it. "Oh," he finally managed.  
  
"I think he was on his way out here, and he saw us and walked away," she continued. "Andy . . ."  
  
"You want to go after him, don't you?" he asked, his voice heavy and defeated.  
  
"I think I have to," she said. "I have to say something to him. I owe him that, at least."  
  
"I would expect no less from you."  
  
"But that doesn't mean I'm not coming back, Andrew. I'll be back." She took his hand and squeezed it. "I promise I'll be back," she repeated firmly.  
  
"And I'll wait for you," he said, managing a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Amy stared into his familiar blue eyes and knew that he wasn't just talking about tonight. She felt something stir in her heart, and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, before pulling away and almost running back toward the house. He stood there staring after her, his heart pounding hard in his chest. Watching her go, he felt suddenly drained of all emotion except for a hope so strong it was painful -- a hope that she was on her way to finish this once and for all. 


	19. Chapter 19

Amy saw Jessie lounging against the bar in the living room and made her way over to her, disregarding the people she had to shove out of the way in her haste. She grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her away from the guys she was talking to. "Whoa there, what's the matter?" Jessie asked, startled by the anxious look on Amy's face.  
  
"Have you seen Ben?" Amy demanded. "I've got to find him."  
  
"What happened? Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine, Jess, have you seen him?"  
  
"Yeah, he just walked out the door; if you run you can probably catch him."  
  
Before the words were out of Jessie's mouth, Amy was pushing through the people again in a rush to get to the front door. The icy wind hit her in the face as she pulled the door open and ran outside onto the porch, which had finally emptied of people, looking around desperately for Ben's car. She gasped when a voice spoke from behind her.  
  
"Looking for someone?"  
  
Amy spun around, and there he was, perched on the brick wall in a shadowy corner of the front porch. He looked rough, his hair tousled as if he'd been running his hands through it. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was holding a plastic cup in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. She realized with a sinking feeling that he was drunk. "Ben, thank God. I thought you'd left."  
  
"Let me guess," he said, his words slightly slurred. "You want to talk."  
  
She tried to read his expression, but it was impossible. He wasn't even looking at her, but at a vague spot somewhere above her eyes. "Yes, I think we should talk," she said tentatively.  
  
"And why is that, Lindley? Why do you want to talk to me? What could possibly be so important that it caused you to tear yourself away from your little poolside make-out session with the love of your young life? Tell me that."  
  
She pursed her lips and stared at him, uncertain of what to say in response to the taunting tone he had adopted. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she managed. "It wasn't something that I planned. I . . ."  
  
She broke off, alarmed, because he had started laughing. He took a long drag on his cigarette, blew the smoke out in a thick cloud, and finally met her eyes. "That's funny. That sounds like what you told him about us, Lindley. Don't you see; we've come full circle here. Only this time it's me that looks like an ass, not your golden boy."  
  
"Ben, that's . . ." Again, words failed her and she trailed away uncertainly into silence.  
  
"What? It was you who wanted to talk, right, so start talking. Tell me." His green eyes held her gaze steadily in spite of his slurred speech and shaky hands.  
  
"I don't know what you want me to say, Ben, I --"  
  
"Then why are you out here, Lindley?" he said gruffly, shaking his head in frustration. "Why did you break your lip lock with loverboy and come running after me to make sure I hadn't fled this party with a broken heart? God, the least you can do is have the courage to back up your convictions! You've got to learn to stand up for yourself or you're always going to be somebody's doormat." He laughed bitterly. "At least now we know whose."  
  
That struck a nerve. "Don't be such a jerk!" she snapped at him. "I don't want to do this now with you so drunk you're stumbling over your own feet; I'd like to talk to you when you can actually comprehend what I'm saying."  
  
He smirked and took another long drag on his cigarette. He stood up carefully and walked over to her, standing so close that she could smell the alcohol on him. "All right, Lindley. I'll offer you a reprieve," he said. "I'll do for you what Andrew the Saint, God's own personal blond- haired, blue-eyed gift to Capeside never would have done. I'll tell you to go back there and find him and continue the private party I accidentally walked in on earlier. There's nothing left for us to talk about anyway. Not when you're so weak you can't even break up with me to my face."  
  
"In case you'd forgotten, we were already broken up," Amy said, her words coming out choked and almost inaudible. "And that wasn't my doing."  
  
His eyes flashed at her. "Well, how convenient for you."  
  
"Why are you being like this? If you must know, when I came out here I had no idea what I was doing, what I was going to say to you. All I knew was that I might be making a big mistake and I was hoping that if I could just find you and see you and talk to you, then it might make things more clear. But I don't even feel like I am talking to you right now; this isn't the you I know, Ben, this certainly isn't the you I fell in love with --"  
  
He laughed again, a short, harsh sound. "Nice. Use that word now. Now that it doesn't make a damn bit of difference anymore, just throw it out there."  
  
"Ben, you knew that."  
  
"I'm not the neighbor boy, Lindley. Are you going to stand there and look me in the face and tell me he's not the one you're in love with?"  
  
"I don't know why you're doing this to me; I was hoping that you of all people would --"  
  
"-- make your decision for you? And you claim that you're not weak? Come on, Lindley, you knew there would come a day when your daddies or your Aunt Joey or your precious Andy wouldn't be around to tell you exactly what to do when and how to do it. Didn't you? If not, then you have much bigger problems than the fact that your poor, pathetic ex-boyfriend is making this inevitable breakup a little harder on you than you wanted it to be." He spat the words at her, and she could only stare at him, hurt and disoriented and completely at a loss for how to respond. He wasn't wrong, and maybe that was what really stung her.  
  
They stood there for several minutes, the thumping backbeat of the music and the unintelligible tangle of voices, shouts, and laughter from the party sounding strange and out of place. Ben sat back down on the brick wall of the porch and lit another cigarette, taking an occasional swig out of his cup, and Amy leaned against the front door, trying to regain her composure. Her heart was beating too hard, and she was fighting back tears.  
  
"Ben?" she said at last.  
  
He didn't look up. "What?"  
  
"Do you remember when you told me that you would never make me choose?" When he was silent, she continued. "Well, obviously that was just a lie, right? Because what were these last two weeks about if not an ultimatum?"  
  
He tore his gaze away from his stream of smoke with an effort and looked at her, his face deadly serious. "I can't be your friend, Amy," he said quietly. "That's not an option, so if that's what you're fishing for . . ."  
  
"So it's all or nothing."  
  
His silence answered her question.  
  
"That's nice," she said sarcastically. "The platonic girl-guy relationship is a myth after all."  
  
"After you've been more than platonic, yes, it is."  
  
"I wish someone had told me that before I procured two males as my best friends."  
  
"You've got Jessie."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Look Lindley, it's been real, but if we're done here, I've got things to do." Ben stood up and stumbled slightly as he made his way toward the stairs, fishing in his jacket pocket for his car keys.  
  
"You're not driving!" Amy said, startled, reaching out to catch hold of his arm.  
  
"Go back to your boyfriend," he said irritably, pulling away from her.  
  
"No. Ben, you're too drunk to stand up straight; I'm not letting you drive away from here!"  
  
"Save your token concern, all right? I know it's hard for you to fathom, but some of us are capable of making adult decisions all by ourselves."  
  
"Okay, say what you want to, but please don't get in your car like this. Please! Let me go inside and find someone who's not drinking to take you home."  
  
He glared at her. "Take your hand off my arm."  
  
"Give me your keys."  
  
"I'm not kidding, Lindley."  
  
"I'm not either. I won't be responsible for you killing yourself or some innocent bystander. Besides, I thought I was the one who always ran away. Aren't you better than that?"  
  
He yanked his arm out of her grasp again and started down the stairs toward his car. She ran after him, caught the back of his jacket, and pulled hard to try to stop him. He spun around suddenly and shoved her roughly away. Taken off guard, Amy stumbled backward a few steps and lost her balance, sprawling hard on the stone driveway and scraping skin off both palms as she used them to break her fall. A shocked, fearful look replaced the angry one on Ben's face, and he reached down to help her up. A shout from the direction they had come made him look up quickly.  
  
"HEY! Get the hell away from her, you son of a bitch!"  
  
Before Amy could even turn around and find the source of the shout, Andrew was there, pulling her gently but quickly to her feet. Then Andrew turned to face Ben, fire in his eyes. Ben looked like he was feeling sick to his stomach, and he was staring at Amy as if trying to figure out what had just happened.  
  
"Andy, please leave it alone," she said, her voice shaking with shock. "That was an accident, okay? Let's just go back inside now."  
  
"You go inside, Amy," he said, his eyes not leaving Ben's. "I'll be there in a minute."  
  
"No! I'm not leaving you here to beat the hell out of each other over me AGAIN," Amy said desperately. "This is getting ridiculous! Haven't you guys done enough? How many times are you going to tear me apart before you're both satisfied that your precious egos are still intact?"  
  
"Amy, I'm so sorry," Ben muttered. "I -- you know I didn't mean to --"  
  
"Save it, asshole," Andrew cut him off. "She doesn't need to hear your pathetic apologies. All she needs is for you to get your sorry ass out of her life for good."  
  
Ben rounded on Andrew. "How do YOU know what she needs? You've never cared before, have you? It's always been about you, about what you need and what you want. So much so that she doesn't think what she wants even matters anymore. Does that make you feel good? Does that make you feel like a man, to have that kind of power over her?"  
  
"Stop it!" Amy shouted, but they both ignored her.  
  
"How about you? Get a little thrill out of shoving girls down? I guess you picked up a few pointers on how to treat a lady from your deadbeat dad after all."  
  
Amy screamed helplessly as Ben's fist came flying at Andrew's face. Before she could even react, Andrew had punched back, and the fight began to escalate. There was nothing she could do without putting herself directly in the line of fire. Her shouts of "Stop it, please! Both of you, just stop . . ." had no effect whatsoever. Crying now, she tried to step between them a couple of times but was pushed out of the way.  
  
And then she looked up to see the most welcome sight she could have hoped for at that moment. Dougie had pulled up to the curb at the edge of the driveway; he was stepping out of his patrol car and running toward them.  
  
"All right, break it up! Break it UP!" he yelled, grabbing Ben's arm and yanking him backward while putting a hand on Andrew's chest and shoving him away from Ben. They struggled for another few moments but finally settled down, glaring at each other and gasping for breath. "What the hell is going on here?" Doug demanded, looking from one to the other.  
  
Both of them were bleeding; Andy's bottom lip was already swelling up like a balloon and was split right down the middle. Ben's nose was pouring; crimson was dripping freely off his chin. No one spoke.  
  
"Amy, what happened?" Doug asked.  
  
"Apparently, it's my fault. They're trying to kill each other," she said, wiping tears from her cheeks with a shaking hand. "And it's all my fault."  
  
"Are you all right?" Doug asked, catching sight of her skinned palms. She hadn't noticed, but blood was dripping down her wrists from the cuts.  
  
"Ask Benny boy here; he's the one who pushed her down," Andrew said viciously.  
  
Doug dropped his hold on Andrew and turned his sharp blue eyes on Ben. "What?"  
  
"Andy, let it go!" Amy begged. "It's not a big deal. It was an accident, Dougie. I just FELL."  
  
"Did you push her, Chambers?" Doug said to Ben.  
  
"Yes sir," Ben said. "I guess you'd say I did."  
  
"Are you drunk right now?" Doug asked, his voice calm but ominous. "Don't even bother to answer; I can smell the liquor on you. Come with me." Still holding Ben's arm in a viselike grip, Doug started to lead him back toward his police car.  
  
"Dougie, what are you doing with him?" Amy called after her dad. "He didn't do anything! Doug?"  
  
Doug didn't answer, but yelled back over his shoulder, "Oh, tell whoever's running this party that the neighbors have complained about the noise. Cut the volume or I'll be back to shut the whole thing down. And I won't be happy about it."  
  
Amy looked at Andrew, who was still breathing heavily and staring after Doug and Ben.  
  
"Why did you do that?" she asked.  
  
"Did I say anything that wasn't true? He did shove you; I saw it. And he is drunk off his ass. You didn't want him driving. This way he won't have to drive." He sounded so casual that her anger spiked again.  
  
"You don't understand anything!" she snapped.  
  
"Come on, Amy; let's just go back inside and . . ."  
  
"What? Make out some more? Forget it; I've got to see what my dad is going to do to him."  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Andrew asked, a sharp edge in his voice. "Aim, there's nothing you can do now. Let Doug handle it."  
  
She threw an icy glare at him and then ran off toward the police car at the curb. 


	20. Chapter 20

"Dougie, will you please just drop it?" Amy begged when she reached the car, next to which Doug was speaking to Ben in a low voice.  
  
"This doesn't concern you," Doug said without turning around. "Go back inside with Andrew."  
  
"No, if you're harassing him on my account, I think it does concern me!"  
  
"I'm not harassing him. Get back inside."  
  
"Just leave him alone, Doug. Don't be a jerk about this. Ben's not the only underage drunk guy at this party, you know. Go round up some of them instead, and let him go!"  
  
Doug turned to face her, his expression stern. "Amy, I am not speaking as your dad right now, I am speaking as an officer of the law. And I'm not asking. Go. Now."  
  
Andrew had come up behind her. He took her elbow and tried to pull her away. "Come on, Aim, let's go," he said. "Let Doug deal with this."  
  
She shook herself free of his grasp. "You're only giving him a hard time because of me!" she said accusingly, and Doug rolled his eyes in frustration. "And since I'm asking you to drop it, you should do that for me. If I'm not upset, then there's no reason for you to be."  
  
Doug cursed under his breath, exasperation plain on his face. "Andrew, will you get her out of here?"  
  
"No!" Amy said urgently, sidestepping Andrew's hand as he reached for her again. "Not until you leave Ben alone. Or take him home; will you just take him home? He just needs to sleep it off."  
  
Ben had not spoken through all this. He was leaning against the car's rear bumper, staring at the ground as if he couldn't care less what was happening around him. Blood had stained the front of his blue shirt black, and it was still flowing freely from his nose. "It's all right, Lindley," he said now. "Just do what he says; I'll be okay."  
  
Doug opened the back door of the cruiser and ushered Ben inside, shutting it behind him. Then he turned to look at Amy, who was staring at him with flushed cheeks and accusatory eyes. "Look, I'm just taking him down to the station and calling his parents to come get him," he said. "Believe me, honey, I am going VERY easy on him compared to what I feel like doing."  
  
"Can I come with you?" she asked. Andrew shot her a look of utter disbelief.  
  
"If you get in this car, I'm taking you home," Doug said. "There's no reason for you to go to the station."  
  
"Why the hell do you want to go with him anyway?" Andrew demanded. "He just showed you the kind of guy he really is, Amy; I thought that would put a nail in the coffin of your so-called relationship. Don't tell me you've got a bad-boy complex."  
  
"Andy, I don't want to hear it from you!" Amy snapped. "This is your fault as much as it is his! You should have listened to me. I don't know why I would expect you to, though, because you NEVER listen to me."  
  
"What are you saying; I should have looked the other way when I saw this guy body-slam you just because you told me to?!" Andrew said, raising his voice.  
  
"Oh God, you're so melodramatic. And YES, you should have," Amy hissed. "Contrary to popular belief, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She glared at him and then turned to Doug. "I'm coming with you," she said firmly.  
  
He looked from Andrew to Amy and sighed heavily. "I'll take you home if that's what you want," he said.  
  
She got in the car and slammed the door shut. Doug and Andrew stood outside talking. Amy strained to hear what they were saying but couldn't quite make it out.  
  
"What are you trying to prove, Lindley?" Ben asked suddenly from the backseat. "This isn't your problem; why are you getting involved?"  
  
She looked at him through the safety partition. "Maybe I think you're being treated unfairly, and I want to help."  
  
"Well, I don't think your dad's real open to the idea of you helping him do his job, especially where I'm concerned. He's not exactly fond of me, in case you haven't noticed. And whatever your reason really is, I'd rather not be the pawn in this game." He looked at her seriously. "If you want to make a stand, make it on your own terms. Don't use me to do that. This isn't about me, Lindley. And this isn't about your rebellion against the good sheriff of Capeside. Don't insult me by trying to tell me that's all it is."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I think it's obvious. You finally acted on some repressed feelings you have for your best friend over there and now you're freaking out about it. And you're hiding behind me. You don't care if your dad throws me in jail for the night; it's an excuse to get away from Andrew and shove everything back into limbo where you want it. Because that's where you feel most comfortable, with no imminent life-altering decisions, when you don't have to think about the next step you're going to take."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Maybe I don't. Maybe I know absolutely nothing about the workings of your complex psyche. I mean, if I did have any real insight where you're concerned, we wouldn't be sitting here right now. But I'm right, aren't I?"  
  
"You know, you're a real asshole when you're drunk, Ben."  
  
"Yeah, maybe someone should have warned you about that before you got mixed up with the likes of me."  
  
They were silent for a while. When Ben spoke again, his tone was much softer and more sincere. "I'm really sorry, you know," he said. "You've got to believe that, even if you don't believe another word I've ever said to you. I did not mean for that to happen, Amy. That -- well, it just happened. I have no excuses. And I deserve this." He indicated his bloody nose.  
  
"No you don't. But you did throw the first punch."  
  
"Yeah, this time."  
  
"You guys have got to stop this before you kill each other. Before you kill me. I can't keep refereeing this blood sport between the two of you."  
  
"Don't worry; I don't think you'll have to. I'm pretty sure we're all fought out. But he'll always hate me; that I can't fix for you."  
  
"And you?"  
  
"Up until a couple of months ago he was my best buddy. That's not something I'll forget, even if he already has."  
  
Amy sighed. It made her feel horrible knowing that the two of them might never be friends again because of her. It wasn't exactly her fault, but it wasn't exactly anyone else's, either, and as the common denominator, it was easy for her to absorb the blame. "I'm sorry this happened," she said softly.  
  
"I'm the idiot who started drinking at six o'clock this evening. You've got nothing to be sorry for. Your dad's just doing his job."  
  
"No, I don't just mean tonight. I mean all of it . . . the way I've handled the whole damn thing. I don't think I did right by you. Or him."  
  
"Or yourself?"  
  
"I don't care about that."  
  
"You've got to get over this idea of yours that what you want is irrelevant. You can't spend your life trying to fix things for everyone else, or you'll get lost in the equation." He paused. "And that, Lindley, would be a crime against humanity, because you've got a lot to offer the world."  
  
She turned to look at him through the partition just as he moved his head to stare idly out the window. Before he did, though, she thought she glimpsed a sparkle of tears in his green eyes.  
  
Doug suddenly opened the back door of the car and leaned down with his hands on his knees, glaring hard at Ben. "Here's the deal. Your buddy over there has made a fairly acceptable plea for your freedom," he said. "So I'm going to let you off the hook this time -- on two conditions. One, you will not get behind the wheel of a car tonight. I don't care if you walk or crawl or find some bleeding heart with a car who takes pity on your sorry ass, but you're not driving. In fact, you're going to give me your keys to rid yourself of any temptation to disregard this condition."  
  
"Yes sir, I can do that," Ben said cooperatively.  
  
Doug held up a hand to silence him. "And two, you will NEVER AGAIN dare to be anything but a perfect gentleman with Amy Lindley. The same goes for future girls that might unfortunately cross your path, but you will be especially careful with this one . . . as if your life depends on it."  
  
"You have nothing to worry about, sir."  
  
Doug held his gaze for a few charged moments. "You'd better hope not. You don't want to test me again, Chambers, do we understand each other?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"Get the hell out of my car."  
  
Doug stepped aside, and Ben got out quickly. Doug fished in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief, which he threw at Ben. "You want to stop that bleeding," he said gruffly.  
  
Amy scrambled out of the car, too; she walked over to Doug and threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Dougie," she said. "You're not always the bad cop after all."  
  
He looked down at her and couldn't help smiling. "Don't thank me, thank Andrew. He's the one who talked me into releasing the prisoner. Now as for you, do you still want me to take you home?"  
  
Amy glanced up and locked eyes with Andrew, whose expression was somber and somehow pleading. "Nah, I think I'll stay for a while," she said.  
  
"Suit yourself. But be home by curfew or Jack will have a fit." He looked at Ben expectantly. "You. Keys." He stood there while Ben handed them over, and then he put them in his own pocket. "You can pick them up at the station tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks again, Sheriff Witter, for letting this go," Ben said. "I really appreciate it."  
  
Doug nodded tersely. "Yeah, well, you sort of remind me of someone. But don't expect any more favors because of that. Just stay out of trouble."  
  
Amy smiled, knowing he was talking about his little brother Pacey. Doug ruffled her hair affectionately before he got back in his cruiser and drove away. The three of them stood there awkwardly on the curb, bleeding from their respective wounds and trying not to look at each other. 


	21. Chapter 21

It was Ben who finally broke the awkward silence. "Uh, thanks man," he said. "For talking Doug into letting me go."  
  
Andrew looked at Amy. "I didn't do it for you," he said brusquely.  
  
"Well, whatever. Thanks anyway."  
  
Andrew shrugged. "Sure, okay."  
  
Amy glanced back and forth between them. "Well, that's a start," she said loudly, and they both looked at her, surprised. "A pathetic one, maybe, but at least you managed an exchange without cursing each other or causing bodily harm." They didn't speak, so she continued. "Look guys, somewhere along the way, this thing got completely out of hand. It's now so screwed up that you guys hate each other, things are weird between Andrew and me, and Ben and I can't have a conversation without tearing into each other. This is the last thing I ever wanted. It's not flattering, it's not impressive. It's infuriating. I'm not some human prize that you can battle it out over to find out who's the bigger man. And if you think I'll drop everything and run straight into the arms of whichever one of you ends up winning that game, you don't know me half as well as you think you do."  
  
"Amy, that's --"  
  
"I'm not done," she snapped at Andrew, who closed his mouth and stared at her as she went on. "What's going on here is not even remotely about me anymore, if it ever was. It's about this stupid competition between the two of you. So do whatever you have to do to fix this, but you should know that I'm not going to be around to play mediator anymore. And when it's over, when you finally give up the fight and come to your senses as the guys I once knew and loved, you might find that you've killed more than just your own friendship. By then, anything I shared with either one of you might just be irreparable."  
  
There was a short silence as they stared at her, and then Ben cleared his throat and asked in a husky monotone, "What do you want?"  
  
Amy was taken aback by the directness of the question. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Come on, Amy, you know what I mean. It's all that matters. It IS the bottom line, no matter what you think. Forget about us for a minute. What do you want?"  
  
Amy took a deep breath. "I want things to go back to normal."  
  
"That's a cop-out. What do you really want?"  
  
"I just told you!"  
  
"What you just told me is crap, Lindley! That's the nice, safe, middle-of- the-road answer, the one that can't hurt anyone and therefore doesn't MEAN anything. You can put an end to this right now. Tell us. Tell me." His eyes held hers unmercifully, refusing to let her look away.  
  
"I don't know, Ben! I don't know," Amy's tone was pleading as she looked back at him, silently begging him to drop the third degree and let her off the hook.  
  
"Yes you do. It's all over your face."  
  
"I don't want to do this right now." She glanced to Andrew for help, but he was just watching the scene unfold before him, his eyebrows arched questioningly.  
  
"There's no better time," Ben continued. "Just say it." He moved forward and grasped her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not going to do it for you."  
  
Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at his battle-scarred face, the caked and drying blood, his penetrating eyes . . . and to her surprise she realized that he was right. She DID know what she wanted. She took a deep, shuddery breath and then looked directly into his clear green eyes. "I want him." The words fell heavily out of her mouth like stones, sounding absurdly melodramatic and very, very final. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she tore her gaze away from Ben and looked at the ground. She was terrified of the reaction, the consequences, half expecting the ground to open up and swallow them all from the sheer weight of this earth-shattering revelation. It didn't.  
  
"Good."  
  
Amy jerked her head back up and looked at Ben questioningly. He had a funny little half-smile on his lips, though his eyes were pained and maybe a little more sparkly than they should have been.  
  
"You're finally telling yourself the truth," he said. "I don't think you've ever done that before."  
  
Amy began to babble. "Ben, I don't want this to change everything. You told me you can't be my friend now, but please just think about that. We can get back to -- "  
  
"Stop. I'm not going to break," he said gently.  
  
"I mean it, though!"  
  
"I know you do. I'm glad you do." Taking her face between his hands, Ben planted a soft kiss on Amy's forehead. "See you around, beautiful." He let go of her and took a step toward Andrew. "Man, I'm sorry about all this. I know you don't want to hear that from me, and I can't say as I blame you. But you probably know better than anyone how this got so out of hand. I mean, it's Amy Lindley we're talking about. . ."  
  
Andrew smiled slightly and nodded.  
  
"And I'll understand if this is always between us. If we can't get past it, that's just the price you pay, you know. But take care of her, okay? I know you will. You always have. And listen, if I had to lose her to someone, I'm glad it was you." He paused and cleared his throat, which had become somewhat choked, then clapped his hands together in a jovial way and said in a forced-sounding voice, "Well, seeing as how my car is currently out of commission and I could use some fresh air, I'm going to start the long walk home now . . . you guys enjoy your evening."  
  
"Hey, um, I could give you a ride if you -- " Andrew began, but Ben interrupted.  
  
"No thanks, really. You guys have enough to deal with right now."  
  
Amy wanted to say something to him, something to take the edge off the pain she had inflicted, but nothing seemed to fit. "Bye, Ben," she managed as he started away from them. And then he was gone, lost in the darkness surrounding the pool of light from the street lamp.  
  
Andrew stepped toward her then, and she was on the verge of telling him to leave her alone, that she didn't feel like delving into the details of her weighty revelation just yet. But he seemed to know without her telling him what she needed at that moment. He didn't speak; he simply put his arms around her and held her tightly, his chin resting on the top of her head. She buried her face in his chest and began to cry softly.  
  
They stood like that for a long time, and when her tears finally subsided, she looked up at Andrew and tried to smile. "Thanks," she said hoarsely. "Honestly, I think I've done more crying during the past two months than in my whole life up till then."  
  
"That's probably a safe bet," he said.  
  
She hesitated, then looked up and met his eyes. "I meant it, you know. What I told Ben."  
  
He nodded. "I hoped so."  
  
"It's scary, though . . ."  
  
"It is," he agreed. "But I'm willing to take a chance, Aim. Are you?"  
  
There was a heavy pause. "I want to. Can you promise me it will work out?"  
  
"You know I can't. Relationships don't come with guarantees. What I can promise you is that we'll give it our best shot. And that no matter what happens, we won't lose each other."  
  
Amy stared at him for a few moments, then smiled. "That's better than nothing."  
  
"I love you, Amy," Andrew said suddenly, then hurried on nervously. "You don't have to answer that right now, I just wanted you to know how I feel from the start. I've loved you my whole damn life, in one way or another. I guess now that feeling has just . . . evolved."  
  
Amy leaned up and kissed him on the corner of the mouth, being careful to avoid the cut down the center of his bottom lip. "I love you too, Andy," she breathed. "I'm just sorry it took Ben to make me realize that."  
  
Andrew smiled warmly at her. "Remind me to thank him for that."  
  
Standing there in the cold under the glow of the halogen streetlight above, Amy silently thanked Ben for more than just that. She thanked him for forcing her to tell herself the truth for once in her life. Suddenly she felt more at peace than she had in weeks. In spite of her sadness over hurting Ben, she knew that this was where she belonged, here with her best friend in the world.  
  
Holding both his hands in her own, she smiled back at him. "Let's get out of here," she said. "It's been over fifteen years; I think it's high time for our first date."  
  
THE END  
  
*** Thanks to my faithful readers, especially Danielle, Yelak, and Charlotte. Without your awesome reviews, I probably would have left this story unfinished a long time ago. I hope you are satisfied with the ending; I'm still not sure if I am or not, but here it is anyway. Also, let me know if you would be interested in a sequel sometime in the near future or if you think this group of characters is played out. Thanks again!*** 


End file.
